Gimme More
by ASimplyHopelessRomantic
Summary: Kurt, Santana, and Brittany all headliners as a musical strip club. What happens one night when three rich boys from the otherside of town come for a visit? Stuff goes down, thats what happens. Kurtana Friendship. Ships: Kurt/Blaine Santana/Warbler!David
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". It was originally going to be a Davana fic, but it turned into a big Klaine story. I haven't finished the next chapter, but I hope to soon. Sorry if its bad, I've never been to a strip club. I don't really know how they work or how the girls dance. Sorry if its bad. Hope you like it anyway! Also, its unbeta'ed, basically because my beta isn't a Klaine fan and refused to do anything R or NC-17 rated. Hope its not too bad! Enjoy!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Kurt checked himself in the mirror once more, making sure all his makeup was in order. A year ago it wouldn't have mattered. He could've gone on stage in old tighty-whities and silly face pant and no one would've even noticed. But that was then, now, he's a front line. Now not only is he racking up most of the cash, but he gets to be in the spot light; something he's dreamed about since he was younger.<p>

Sure, back then he thought it would be a Broadway stage and not one belonging to a filthy strip club, but hey! You have to start somewhere.

Will Schuester, the stage direction, opens the door with a huff, though none of the girls seemed to really notice– a man bursting into the room while they change; they were all used to it by now.

Time to hit the stage!" He called excitingly. Several girls stood from their seats and headed out the door. Three remained; just being one of them. "You three ready?"

"When are we _not_ ready, Schue?" Santana questioned.

Out of all the girls here, Kurt ended up being closets to two. Santana and Brittany. Santana, whose stage name was Lolita (or just Lita), was the bitch of club ND. A sassy Latina who's blood was as hot as her body. And her body was _smoking_. She and Kurt clashed at first; their divaness being too much to handle. Eventually they grew out of it and become somewhat friends.

Brittany (also known as Charity), on the other hand, was the exact opposite. Silly, beautiful, and sweeter than cheery pie. She and Kurt hit it off his first day (something about how he looked like he belonged in the live action version Hello Kitty than a strip club seemed to catch her eye). Not the brightest light bulb in the room, but wonderful nonetheless.

"Never, Lita. Never. Alright, Charity, is your mic set up?"

"I think so. It's around my head and tapped to the back of my neck. It feels weird when I do this." Brittany bent her head back, looking up at the ceiling.

"Well then, let's not do that, shall we?"

"I can't wait to get on stage. I just love singing me." Kurt smiled at her innocence.

Sylvester, club ND's owner, thought it would be a good idea to enlist actual music into the performances. Tonight they would be doing a rendition to Britney Spears "Gimme More"; with Brittany on lead and Kurt and Santana on backup. Brittany, who is somewhat obsessed with the star, tends to have rare moments where she believes she _is_ Ms. Spears. Tonight is definitely one of those nights.

"Alright, you three, let's get on stage!"

Kurt, Santana, and Brittany all stood, doing one last check on their mic's before heading out the door.

"Try not to freak out when I go down on you this time." Santana told Kurt as they walked through the backstage corridor.

"On my own defense, I was caught off guard."

Santana smirked. "It's just a dance move, Sparkles. I wouldn't suck that even if ya paid me."

"I feel the love, Lita." Kurt replied sarcastically, placing his hand over his heart.

Taking their places on the dark stage (Santana on the left, Kurt on the right, and Brittany back middle); they made their stance as they waited for the music to start.

Blaine Anderson wasn't the type of person to go to a strip club. He never slept around, hardly drank, and treated men and women with respect, and not like they were just a piece of meat to ogle at. But tonight was a different story. Tonight, Blaine was finished with college. Finished with busting his ass and worrying about being the perfect student. Tonight was the night he was going to relax, have fun, and hopefully, if there was any type of God out there, get laid.

But when his friends brought him to Club New Directions (Also known as Nude Erections), but tried to protest. It wasn't that he hated strip clubs, he found them quiet amusing to be honest. They just weren't his thing. And okay, so Club ND wasn't like normal strip clubs. Really, it was more of an escort club; where the girls and boys would dance and show what they got, and then would go out and mingle with the crowed. Whoever put up the most cash walked away with the prize. Blaine found it to be somewhat degrading, while his fellow classmates disagreed.

"Come on, guys. There has to be somewhere else we can go to have a good time."

"Are you kidding?" Wes said as they took their seats. "I've been waiting to go here for months! I heard their dancers are like _beyond_ hot!"

"_And_, Marco told me they actually sing here! And they're not bad!" David put in.

Blaine leaned back, his arms out on the table. "Wonderful, a half naked woman pushing her stuff in my face while singing some trashy pop song. Exactly how I wanted to spend my evening!"

"Oh, would you stop whining!" Wes says.

"Yeah! They do have male dancers you know!"

Blaine shivered at the thought of a male stripper. Probably all big and buff, covered in sweat and glitter. And dumber than someone who keeps playing rock over and over again in Rock, Paper, Scissors.

The lights around them all darkened as the ones on the stage became lit; bright enough to blind.

"_Its Britney, bitch."_ A voice came from the speakers.

Wes and David smiled to each other, while Blaine stared in front of him, wondering what the hell he had gotten into.

Center of the stage, in the front, stood three people. A tall blonde, a sexy tan woman, and a handsome brunette. The blonde, whose voice was the woman speaking, moved along the stage as she started to sing. The two, moved as well, dancing around her and with her.

Blaine went back and forth between the dancers on stage to his friends, who seemed to be under some kind of spell. The routine wasn't too bad, though it lacked the thought of it being an actual strip show. In all honestly, up until they began removing their clothing, it looked like a normal dance routine; something you'd see at a pop concert.

They bumped and grinded; twisting their bodies in a way that seemed somewhat unnatural.

"Names dude, I need names!" Wes said quickly to David, slapping his upper arm harshly.

"Um," David thought for a moment. "The one singing is Charity. Shorter girl in Lolita. And I think the guys name is Porcelain."

Blaine rolled his eyes. _Porcelain, such a stripper name_. He had to admit, from where he was sitting, Porcelain didn't look too ugly. His body, of course, was shiny from the glitter and his face sparkling from the makeup he wore. He was dressed in red board shorts and had novelty plastic sunglasses on. Blaine admired that. He himself was a sunglass man; though bright pink were more his style.

"_Gimme, gimme, more! Gimme more! Gimme, gimme, more!"_

Blaine rolled his eyes as his friends whistled as the two danced up on the singer, rubbing their bodies together like they were trying to start a fire. When it was time for the blonde – for Charity – to have her moment, Lolita and Porcelain made their way to the side of the stage where they continued their dancing.

Blaine, though blushing brightly, was somewhat turned on by the things Porcelain did to his body. How he danced with Lolita and how he placed his hand on her head, dribbling it as she moved her body, going down on him.

Switching spots, Lolita took the stage, twisting her head around as she ripped off belly shirt, revealing her black bra. She moved her hips around, moving her body to the music that Charity was giving.

"I think I'm in love!" Wes shouted, while David whistled a cat call.

Finally, it was Porcelain turn to dance. He stood center stage with the headlight heading down on him. Churning his hips, he ran his hands over his chest, over his hard nipples and twisted his head around.

His friends, of course, were too busy watching the girl on girl action that was happening not even ten feet away to notice the beauty in the way the young man moved. He made dancing look like an art, instead of just a way to make extra cash. And then, in a slick move, he reached down and ripped the red board shorts off his body, reveling even shorter red shorts. Tight red short shorts, so short, they couldn't even be called shorts. They seemed like a cross between boxer-briefs and a thong.

Blaine felt his hand slowly move towards his pocket, where his wallet sat, with holding hundreds of dollars (most of them dollar bills, of course). Crossing his legs, Blaine did his best to hide the large erection that was beginning to grow in his pants as he watched the three once against group together.

"_Danger! Danger! Danger! Danger!"_ Porcelain chanted, while Lita covered the _"Ohhh ah's"_.

Eventually, the dance was over, most of the dancers clothes have been removed, and nothing was left but sweat and glitter. Nearly every man in the room stood and clapped; Blaine being one of them.

While the ladies from the back row collected all the falling cash that was left on the stage, the three headed back to the changing room, laughing hysterically all the way.

"Is that it?" Blaine asked his friends.

"Nah," Wes smiled. "Now they're gonna come out and look for the highest bidder."

"Good thing we're rich." David smirked.

On any other night, Blaine would've yelled at his friend for that kind of talk. But that was before coming to Club ND and seeing Porcelain dance.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Thank you so much for commenting; it means a lot ot me. Here is the second chaper, I promise there is lots more to come. Enjoy!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Kurt couldn't stop smiling as he entered the dressing room. He couldn't explain why he was so happy but just being up on that stage, showing off his moves, was amazing. Even if it is just for money at a highly rated strip club.<p>

"That was hot." Brittany said as they all change into their greeting attire.

"It was," Santana agreed. "But you were still late on your spin."

Kurt casually rolled his eyes at that. He was sweating up a storm under those lights and was partly blinded with glitter and cheap makeup. Getting down on his knees, humping the floor, and then spinning around in a circle wasn't exactly his most favorite move.

"I hardly doubt anyone noticed, Santana."

"I did." A voice came from the door. Each looked up to see their boss, Sylvester, standing in the door way; her arms crossed over her chest tightly. "And Lolita is right, you _were_ late."

"It's just a spin, Sue."

"Spin or not spin, it was a part of the routine." Sylvester entered the room slowly, her expression still. "You know, there are tons of other girls who would probably kill to take your place. Seriously, they'd do things for me that they'd never dare do for a Klondike bar." Reaching over, Sylvester lifted one of the large powder balls and stared into it deeply, before making eye contact with Kurt. "Try to remember that the next time you screw up one of my routines."

Moving forward, Sylvester harshly tapped Kurt's face with the ball, coating it with white dust.

"You're out in three." She spoke aloud before retreating from the room.

"Mhm," Santana hummed, smirking widely as she took her seat, quickly finishing her makeup.

Blaine was waiting. Waiting for what, you may ask? For everything. For a job he actually liked to come along. For his parents to stop pushing the marriage of his father's business associate's son. For an acceptable guy to come along. But right now, now he was waiting on Porcelain. He hadn't expected much, but the boy could move and Blaine thought maybe, just maybe, they could talk.

The dancers came out in groups, the main three being the last to leave. They spoke to several people, but only for a moment or two. Blaine nearly jumped from his seat when he saw them walking their way. He tried to play cool, the last thing he wanted was to look as crazy and obsessed as the idiots sitting beside him.

"Hi, guys." Lolita says, smiling brightly. Charity and Porcelain stand on either side of her, smiling just as bright. "Having fun?"

"Loads."

"Tons."

David and Wes fumbled as they spoke at the exact same time.

"Do you guys know the rules here?" Charity asks.

"Rules?" Blaine mimics.

"You get three minutes to chat and then we move on, unless you want to do other things."

"Other things, huh?" Wes asks excitingly.

"And what would those other things be?" David questions.

"Oh, you know. Dance, talk, or more."

"And the price ranges for these?" Blaine speaks up. He locks eyes with Porcelain for a moment, who smiles softly. Blaine likes that smile. He likes it a lot.

"Fifty for a dance or lap dance. A hundred for a hand job. Two hundred for a blow job. And three hundred for a fuck. Plus an extra hundred for every extra hour." Lolita explains.

"Damn! You guys are pretty pricy."

Charity and Lolita smile. "We're worth it." They reply in unison.

Blaine leans forward. "How much is it just to talk?"

"A buck a minute." Lolita states. "Alright then, boys. Let's get to chatting. This is Charity. She does everything but sex, so if that's what you're looking for, you're out of luck with her."

"I have a boyfriend." Charity says. "He's in a wheelchair and is totally hot."

"This is Porcelain. He gives it all and has no problem taking it. Isn't that right, Sparkles?" Porcelain blushes at her words, but says nothing.

Blaine meets his gaze for a moment and Blaine can see a hint of shyness in them. Blaine smiles at this.

"And I'm Lolita. Feel free to just call me Lita, though. I do everything under the sun and worth every penny. You have two minutes left, tell us about yourselves."

The guys looked to one another before Wes finally spoke up.

"I'm Wes."

"Like Wesley?" Charity asks.

"Yeah."

"That's a cute name. It sounds like a horse's name."

"Thanks. This is David. And that's Blaine."

"Pretty in Pink!" Porcelain said suddenly. All eyes land on him. "Sorry, reminded me of a character from a movie."

"Yeah." Blaine turned towards him. "The Molly Ringwald film. In the eighties. I love the movie."

Lita looked to her friend with are-you-kidding-me eyes. Rolling them, she looked back to the three sitting before her.

"It was nice chatting with you, but we have to go now."

"Wait!" Wes spoke up. "How much did you say for a dance?"

"Fifty." Lita says.

Reaching into his wallet, Wes pulled out a crisp fifty dollar bill. "I would like a dance with Ms. Lita."

Lita smiles, taking the bill from his hand. "Come on, Cowboy." She says, turning her back as she walked to the dance floor. Wiggling his eyebrows, Wes follows her.

Reaching into his own pocket, David pulled out an identical fifty dollar bill and held it out to Charity, who smiled widely as they went out on the floor.

When only Blaine and Porcelain remained, they two did everything to keep their eyes off one another. Eventually Blaine gave up and looked to the shiny young man before him.

"Well, I better get going." Porcelain says after a moment.

As he slowly turned to leave, Blaine realized he didn't want that. Reaching into his pocket, Blaine pulled out a ten.

"Wait!" As the man turned around, Blaine held out the bill. "What other movies do you like?"

Kurt laughed. Not a sarcastic laugh or one he was forced to make to please a client, a real I'm-having-fun laugh. And he was. He enjoyed talking to Blaine. Especially since they talked about everything. From movies to music to fashion. They agreed on most things, which was rare, seeing as Kurt had a very strong option on things (which usually landed him into trouble). But here, in this situation, he was brought into uncontrollable laughter.

By the time their drinks were gone and the music slowly came to an end, Blaine has spent almost two hundred dollars while talking. Neither wanted it to end, but it did. In a way that wasn't exactly cheerful.

"Alright, Porcelain, you're done." Sylvester says, coming to their table.

"Done? Sue, we're just talking. And you're getting paid for it!"

"Three hours is the limit. Now let's go, I'm sure there are many other gentlemen who would like to talk to you." Kurt and Blaine each remained silent, avoiding the eyes around them. "Now!" Sylvester bellowed before leaving the table.

"Sorry to get you in trouble." Blaine expressed.

"It's fine." Kurt told him, placing up a small hand to stop Blaine fro continuing. "It was nice talking to you, Blaine. See you around I guess?" _I hope_, he added softly in the back of his mind as he stood.

Blaine came to his feet as well, placing his balled hand into his pocket. "Oh, yeah. Totally." He smiled.

Kurt liked his smile. He didn't know why; maybe because it was one of the few genuine smiles he saw while working at Club ND. It was easy to see Kurt was saddened with that fact three hours had came and went so quickly, but business was business. Whether he liked it or not.

"Bye." Kurt said at least before turning his back on Blaine and going back to mingling.

Standing all alone at the table, Blaine rubbed the back of his neck, breathing outward as he went to search for his friends.

"Sorry boys, but its five dances to a client." Santana said, recounting the several fifty dollar bills she had made in the last two hours.

It wasn't the first time Santana had a stubborn cliental, but these two just didn't seem to quit. Back and forth they went, one dancing with Brittany, the other with Santana and vice versa. Finally they gave up on Brittany (who didn't seem to mind, seeing as Artie came to take her home – must to her pleasure. She hated working the long nights), they stuck with Santana.

"Awe, but we were having so much fun." Wes whined, his eyes bloodshot from all the dinks he downed while waiting his turn.

Santana smiled wickedly. "You two seem like strong, rich boys. I'm sure you can easily afford to have even more fun than just dancing."

"How . . . how much for sex?" Wes asks, blinking hard.

"Three hundred. Plus an extra hundred for each extra hour."

"Deal!" Wes shouts, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his wallet.

"Hey, now!" David steps forward. "Maybe _I_ want to have sex with her."

"Too bad, I had her first."

"You _danced_ with her first. Doesn't mean you had her!"

Santana smiled at the two bickering before her, loving the feeling of men fighting over her.

"Boys, boys, boys. There's an easy way to settle this. You can both have me."

"How much for that?" Wes slurs.

"The rate for sex stays the same for each person, but you'd just add another fifty."

"Sounds good to me!"

"Not for me." David inputs. "I don't share." He explains.

Santana turned to him, lifting a brow. Most men would jump into bed with a total stranger just to have her. But not him.

"You're stubborn. I like that." She told him.

"I'll give you three-fifty, plus as many hundreds as we'll need." Wes says, holding his wallet up as proof.

"But money talks, sweetie." Santana turns away from him, allowing Wes to put his arm around him. "Its nothing personal, cutie. Business is business." With that said, Santana left a greatly smiling Wes into the back room, leaving David to fend for himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". It was originally going to be a Davana fic, but it turned into a big Klaine story. Here is chapter three; I promise more is on the way. Hope you enjoy it! Also! Sorry about the breaks and stuff. When I posted it on LJ, it had spaces and everything; sorry for the confusion.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>It was a week later when Blaine found himself back at club Cheery-Oh's! He wasn't really sure why he allowed his friends to drag him along for a second time, seeing as his last experience wasn't so great. Aside from his three hour conversation with Porcelain, the only fun he had was when he caught up with David and got to go home.<p>

I mean, the music was loud, the girls were so flirty and barely clothed, and the drinks were sweet and cost more than drinking the queen of England's piss, though Blaine was sure no one would actually drink that, let alone buy it.

Getting to the club a little late, the three guys took seats in the back while the dancers finished their set of Rihanna's "What's My Name". With Porcelain taking over the rap, Lita danced along with the other male dancers. Blaine could barely take his eyes off Porcelain as he twisted his hips in a pair of black short shorts. The way he moved with the girls, so sexual; almost like it was turning him on, though it wasn't, of course. No one with hands that soft could be straight! _Maybe he's bi?_ Blaine silently pondered, crossing his legs, trying to ignore the tightening in his crotch.

David and Wes cheered on Lita, as she swung around and around on the pole, taking the part of Rihanna.

"God, I wish I want that pole." Wes sighed, watching as she hung upside down in nothing more than a bedazzled bra and matching thong.

Two of the male dancers grabbed her by the legs and flipped her around, placing her on her feet before pressing her between them. She handled both, moving her body slowly, teasingly, twisting her head around whenever she got close enough to their certain body part.

When the set was over and the dancers were off the stage, Blaine, Wes, and David waited impatiently as the headliners got ready backstage. Just like the night before, the golden three made their way out from the back, bright smiles plastered onto their faces, and began mingling.

Not wanting to miss their chances, the guys got up from their seats and headed over.

"Well, well, well. Look who we have here, ladies." Lita placed her arms across her chest, though making sure to hide no cleavage.

"You came back." Porcelain stated in half shock, his eyes locking with Blaine's.

"I remember you. You're the guys that kept dancing with us." Charity spoke.

"It's nice to see you all again. Nice move by the way; I take it you've worked with pole's before." Wes said, directing his attention to Lita.

Lita smirked, looking down at her perfectly manicured nails. "Let's just say someone once told me the only job I'd have would be on a pole. Who knew she'd be right." She added a dry giggle at the end, her eyes never leaving her hand.

"Well, you were fantastic. All of you were." David insisted. "Now, if I may, I would like to share a dance with you, Lita."

"Pass the Grant and you got a deal." Reaching into his pocket, David pulled out a crisp fifty dollar bill and placed it in her waiting palm. "Let's go, cutie." Smiling widely, David followed the shorter girl out onto the dance floor.

"I like your outfit." Charity said to Wes. "You look like a penguin."

Blaine chuckled at her childlike truthfulness, while Wes winced in embarrassment, running his hands down the sides of his black sports jacket.

"Uh, thanks. Would you like to dance?"

"Totally, but I need the money first."

"Of course." Doing just as David had just done, Wes reached into his wallet, grabbed the bill, and handed it to the girl.

"Thank you! See you later, Por." She said before taking Wes' hand and leading him onto the dance floor.

Blaine and Porcelain stood in silence for a moment, neither knowing what to say. Finally, they spoke, their words fumbling against each others. They laughed shortly, mostly out of nervousness.

"Welcome back!" Porcelain says. "I guess this place is warming up to you."

Blaine half smiled, rubbing the back of his next with his hand. "Yeah, I guess you can say that." Blaine let his eyes wander, keeping an eye out for the boss lady. _What was her name? Something with an S. Slater? Salvatore?_ Blaine continued to go through the options in his mind, trying to remember the name of the owner.

"It was nice seeing you again," Porcelain's voice broke through his thoughts. "But I better get back before someone says anything."

"Wait!" Reaching forward, Blaine grabbed his forearm, almost shocked by how firm and strong it was. Porcelain stared at his hand, his mouth slightly ajar; whether it was in shock or fear, Blaine didn't know. Blaine slowly released him. "Sorry. Um, would you like to go somewhere? And, like, talk?"

Porcelain cocked his head to the side.

"I can pay for it!" Blaine said quickly. "Just like last time."

Blaine practically held his breath as Porcelain watched him, his greenish blue eyes sparkling from the flashing lights. Finally, he smiled; something that made Blaine's heart start to flip.

"Sure." He said. "Follow me."

* * *

><p>Kurt led Blaine to one of the far end tables, where the music was lower and the lights were steady. This area was usually vacant, so Kurt new it would be a perfect place for him and Blaine to talk.<p>

"I gotta be honest with ya," Blaine said, leaning back into the softness of the booth. "It was actually my friend's idea to come here tonight."

"Ah." Kurt nods slowly, trying to get any thought of Blaine actually wanting to be there to see him out of his head.

"Don't get me wrong, this place is pretty cool. It's just . . . strip clubs aren't really my thing. Even if Cheery-Ohs! isn't your ordinary strip club."

Kurt smiled at this, not offended by the words. "We're a special kind of breed." He joked. "Most people believe that strip clubs are extremely dirty and full of woman who would do anything for a couple bucks. And also being crossed with an escort club, well . . . let's just say you're not the first to question club CO's objective."

"And what exactly is that objective, if I may be so bold."

"Bold and the beautiful." Kurt teased, nudging Blaine's knee with his own. "We want to make people happy. Yes we exchange money for sex, but it's more than that. The people who come here come not only to receive a piece of ass, but also get some entertainment. Look at it this way; you come here, to get some drinks, you get to watch beautiful women (and men) dancing, singing, and taking their clothes off. You want more, we'll give you more. It's pretty pricey, but hey, people keep coming back."

"You actually have people returning?" Blaine questioned.

It wasn't that club Cheery-Ohs! was exclusive, more like the exact opposite. All were welcome, well at least all who could pay for it. Fifty dollar entrance fee, between seven and seventy-five dollars a drink (or bottle) and then the prices on the girls, let alone the money you throw up on stage while they're dancing. At the end of the night, depending on what you did, it seemed like it would be cheaper to go to the Playboy mansion.

But still, it's an experience you won't get at many other places/

Kurt leaned into Blaine, a sweet, teasing smile playing across his lips. "You're back, aren't you?" He pointed out.

Blaine paused for a moment, and then chuckled at his own foolishness. "Yeah. I am." He said, pleased with that fact.

* * *

><p>Santana could honestly admit she had never danced so many times with the same person in her entire life. Maybe it was some kind of rivalry, she didn't know, but back and forth she went. David, Wes, then back to David, and then back to Wes. It wasn't the first time a client wanted her repeatedly, but something about these two was just mesmerizing to her.<p>

Almost three hours and ten dances later, she had reacted her maximum.

"Sorry boys, we reached out limit tonight."

"Ooh, come on, Lita. One more dance?" Wes pushed.

"Sorry. Rules are rules."

"Well, we still have time for other things. How about a lap dance?" Wes giggled to himself, once again bound in a silly, drunken stupor.

"Screw the lap dance. Why don't you and I get out of here?" David offered, steeping forward.

Wes placed a hand on his friends shoulder, pulling him back. "Hey, _I_ wanna sleep with her!"

"You had her last time!" David retaliated.

"Boys, why fight when you can simply share?" Santana suggested.

"No! I don't do that shit." David half bellowed. "I brought it up, I'm going with you."

"Not fair, dude!"

"Yo, Lolita!" The three turned to see Noah Puckerman, the clubs bouncer, making his way over. "These guys bothering you?"

Puck, who was normally always guarding the door, stared down the two smaller men, as if he was ready to rip their heads off with request.

"No, Puck. It's okay."

"You sure? Ya need anything, just halla."

David and Wes watched in silent as Puck retreated, his eyes never leaving theirs until he finally turned his back and headed to the bar.

"Look!" Wes spoke up, pulling his wallet from his pocket. "I'll give you three-fifty."

"Same for me!" David says.

"Dude, you can't afford to spend that much in one night." Wes told him.

"Watch me!" David replied angrily. "Look, we're both willing to pay more than the average price, but I'm not going any higher."

"Me either. You'll just have to choose."

"Choosing isn't really my style." Santana explained.

"Take it or leave it." David told her.

Santana let out a harsh breath, rolling her eyes. It was already late and the chance of finding anyone else willing to pay higher than the normal rate was probably one in a million, so it's not like she actually had a choice.

"Fine." She said, looking between the men. She had already had Wes, though she didn't exactly mind having him again. But there was something about David she couldn't let go. The way he looked at her it was like . . . she shook that thought of her head quickly, not wanting to think about it.

"Well?" David pressed.

"Sorry handsome," she looked to Wes. "Its cutie's turn now."

Smiling bright in sheer surprise, David opened his wallet and pulled out the bills, holding it out to her like a child holding a ticket to ride the Merry-Go-Round. Taking the cash, Santana wrapped her arm around David's, leading him to the back room, looking back to blow Wes a small kiss before disappearing behind the curtain.

* * *

><p>Blaine leaned back, nearly chocking on his water as he laughed at the joke Porcelain was telling.<p>

"I gotta say, if you weren't so good at what you do, a comedian would definitely be your calling."

"Glad you're having a good time. It's what I thrive for."

"Well, you're going a fantastic job." He encouraged.

"Blaine!" Each looked up, watching as Wes wiggled around the group of people before finally making it to the table. "I've been looking for you man."

"What's going on?"

"David took my girl, dude."

Porcelain leaned forward, his hand under his chin, keeping his head up. "Lemme guess, Lolita?"

"Yeah! I totally had dibs on her too!"

"Wes, how drunk are you?" Blaine questioned his friend, who was beginning to sway back and forth as he stood.

"Nah, man. I only had a couple of drinks."

Blaine stood quickly, taking his friend by the arm. "I better get you to your apartment." Turning back, he gave Porcelain an apologetic look. "Sorry we didn't get to talk for very long."

"It's perfectly fine. Get your friend home safely. I'll see you around."

Blaine smiled at the thought of seeing Porcelain again. "Definitely." He swore before having his friends arm and pulling him out of the club.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". It was originally going to be a Davana fic, but it turned into a big Klaine story. Chapter four! I'm so happy you all like this story, because there is much much more to come! Please enjoy and please, keep cominging, you make me smile so wide, I could almost cure cancer!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>David could hardly contain his smile as he and Blaine walked into Club Cheery-Ohs! a week later. His night with Lita was short, but oh did he remember it. Vividly, infact. The way she moved, how her voice sounded, how soft her skin was as he held her. Nearly every detail of what happened that night. So when Blaine agreed to go there for a third week in a row, David nearly started skipping around the room at the thought of seeing her again.<p>

Wes was out of town on business, so it was just he and Blaine tonight; which didn't really bother David. He liked Wes, they've been friends since High school, but sometimes he can be a real pain. Especially when it came to the opposite sex. David wasn't exactly sure, but it always seemed like if David liked a girl, Wes had to have her; whether it was before or after David, it didn't really matter. As long as he could keep that smile on his face and say "been there, done that".

By the time the guys got to the club, the performance was over and the dancers had already begun to mingle. Going their separate ways, David broke though the crowd in search for Lita. When he found her, she was talking to some man who looked around three times her age with no hair and an ugly grin. She laughed at something he said, and even though David was sure it was fake, he liked the sound of her laughing.

"Lita!" He called, making his way to her. She turned towards him; a small smile appeared across her lips. "Hey." He says, standing before her.

She places her hand on her hip, tossing her head to the side. "Becoming a regular, Davie?" She teases. David's heart does a little flip when she says his name. _She remembered!_

"I guess you could say that." He shrugged.

"So, where are Beavis and Butthead?"

"It's just Blaine and I tonight." He tells her.

Her face softens. "Hmm, such a shame. That other one was so much fun to play with." David swallows hard, trying to ignore the small ounce of jealousy running through his veins. Lita smirks slowly, her eye lashes fluttering. "Then again, this could give you and me a chance to have fun. You know, with no distractions."

David clears his throat, blushing at the seductiveness in his voice. "Would, uh, would you like to go somewhere. To talk?"

"Talk?" She repeats, raising a brow at the word. "I'm not really the "talking" kind of girl here, sweetie." She informs him.

"I'm good for it." He states, hoping the fact he'll pay for their time together will be enough to convince her. And it turns out it is.

"Fine." She sighs. "Follow me."

She leads him to one of the tables in the back and sits across from him. David does his best to keep his eyes at the same level as hers, and not at her bare legs, which had just been crossed or at her chest, which has been squeezed into a very small shirt which was leaving none to the imagination.

"So," she leans back. "What do you want to talk about?"

David leans forward, his arms on the table as he studies her. "You, actually."

"Me?"

"Yeah. How long have you been working at Club Cheeri-Ohs!"

"Not that long. I got a job here after graduating from school. Thought it would only be for a couple weeks, but soon weeks turned into months, and months turned into years. So on and so on."

"Did you ever think of working somewhere else?"

"Somewhere else?" She mimics. "Like another strip club?"

"More like, somewhere else other than a strip club."

Lita stares at him for a moment, her eyes narrow and mouth ajar. "Why do you wanna know that?"

"I'm sorry if that was too personal. I just, I wanna get to know you."

"Get to know _me_? Why the hell would you want to do that?"

David staggered, trying to piece together an explication that wouldn't seem too . . . what was the word? Ridiculous? "I just . . . I wanna get to know you. Maybe spend time together."

"_Spend time together_?" She asks; her voice almost venomous. "And do what? Go on _dates_? You're talking to the wrong girl, sweetheart." Lita placed her hands on the table, preparing to stand.

"Lita, please." David tries.

"Look, I don't know what your plan is; whether you want some free sex or whatever,"

"What? No! That's not what I'm after. I like you, Lita" He inputs.

"Sure it isn't And of course you do, David." She says, coming to her feet. "Look, I've seen this before. We spend a night together and you get the wrong impression."

David gets up as well, moving around the table to stand before her. "Lita, I promise, it's not that!"

"We had sex, David. That's all it was. Not some wonderful first time where we both kissed with passion and held each afterwards. It was nothing more than a fuck. One you paid for. So whatever it is you have set up in your mind about me, do us both a favor and let it go."

David stood flabbergasted, trying to piece together what went wrong and how he can fix it. Before he can say another word, a loud whistle comes from across the room. They turn to see an older man sitting in one of the booths, a fifty waving in the air.

"How about a dance, sweetheart?" He asks.

David and Lita exchange a long look before she turns away. "It's just a job, David. Try to keep that in mind." She tells him before leaving.

Standing alone in a sea of men and scandalizes dressed women, David watched in despair as she straddled the man's lap, turning her head around clockwise and she moves her hips along with the music.

* * *

><p>Kurt smiled charmingly, though even a blind man could tell it was faker than Heidi Montag's boobs. He loved Club Cheeri-Ohs!, he truly did. He loved all the girls, and the outfits, and getting to perform live. But dear Lord did he despise having to flirt with potential clients. Yes, he knew they were the entire reason for even being there. The happier the clients are the more money he'll make and the more songs and dances he gets to perform. But why, oh why, did they have to be such shmucks?<p>

Yes, alright, some of them were attractive. Kurt had admit that. And a handful could even be called hot. But the majority of them were over thirty, with gray hair and a heavy wallet. Most of them were nice, homely guys. While the others seemed to talk dirtier than Howard Stern.

Kurt is all for being naughty, but having his ass pinched by a Bill Clinton look alike isn't exactly a turn on for him.

He was just about to strike a deal with an older, beer-bellied cowboy when he saw a bright pair of pink sunglasses, sitting upon a familiar looking curly Q headed his way. And in that instant, Kurt's true smile began to dance across his lips.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen." Kurt spoke, cutting off whatever Cowboy Fred was about to say. "Your three minutes is up. Enjoy your evening."

Cutting through the crowd of people, Kurt met Blaine halfway. Blaine stopped short, his brown eyes wide as they came into contract with Kurt's ocean greens.

"We meet again." He shines, his pearly whites beaming in the fluoresces.

"I guess so."

"How have you been?"

"Oh, you know. Same old, same old." Kurt shrugged, mentally shooting himself for not having anything interesting to say.

Blaine smiled anyway; taking that was an acceptable answer. "Well, I'm sure there was something worth chatting about. For a taste of familiarity, how about we find a place to talk."

"Of course!" Kurt nods, then stops. "Oh, crap."

"What is it?" Blaine asks.

"I'm sorry, Blaine. I can't."

Blaine cocks his head to the side, his brain registering the words in check. "Why?"

Kurt bit his soft red lip and thought back to the meeting earlier that day in Sylvester's office. She had apparently been watching his progress during the past few weeks and found that he had been doing more talking than actual screwing.

"But it's what the client wants." He states. "And I know the rules: three hours per client per talk. We're making almost two hundred dollars; I don't get what the problem is."

"My problem is sunshine that you could be making fifty dollars in three minutes like that," Sylvester snaps her fingers quickly, her eyes never leaving Kurt's. "All this talking and getting to know one another, it's not good for business, Porcelain. Do you know how much I make off one of my dancers? Forty percent of everything they make that night. So do you know what I make after one of your little talks? A measly little seventy-two dollars. I am losing money off you, Porcelain."

"So what do you want me to do, Sue?" Kurt sighed tiredly, wanting nothing more than to leave and go back to the dressing room to relax before the night began.

"From this point on you are banned from talking." Kurt's eyes flew up at the word "banned". "You're a hot item, string bean. You could be making five to six hundred dollars a night. Instead you're coming back with maybe two or three. I can't have that."

"Fine." Kurt said sharply. "Anything else?"

"Did anyone ever tell you, you look like a young Liza Minnelli in a skirt?" Sylvester questions.

Whether she was mocking him or giving him a compliment, Kurt didn't know (her tone is the same either way). Standing, Kurt ran his hands down the side of his pants before leaving the office.

"My boss," he says, coming back to the present. "She cut me off from all conversations."

"Oh." Was all that came out of Blaine's mouth.

"I'm sorry. I truly did enjoy talking to you, honestly." Kurt tries, hoping to make the string less painful.

"Yeah. Me too." Blaine answers, his smile breaking in half.

Just behind Blaine, Kurt caught sight of Sue as she stood on her upstairs balcony, looking over the club. Her assistant, Becky, beside her with a clip board. Not wanting to be caught, Kurt turned back to Blaine.

"And now our three minutes are over. I'm sorry. I hope to see you around. Bye Blaine." Smiling partly, Kurt turned on his heel and walked away, cutting through several dancers.

Kurt silently cursed Sue Sylvester for forcing him to give up one of the best times of his life. Talking to Blaine . . . it was like nothing he ever experienced while working at club Cheeri-Ohs! It seemed like for the first time since he took the job, somebody actually wanted him for something other than his body.

Catching the eye of a potential client, Kurt sighed heavily, swallowing his sadness. He was about to take a step forward when he felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back. He turned, wondering who infact it was that stopped it. And once again he was met with the calm browns.

"How about a dance?" Blaine asked, holding up a folded in half fifty. Kurt's heart nearly began to flip as he took the money and Blaine's hand and lead him onto the dance floor.

* * *

><p>Blaine wanted to do back flips. He literally wanted to push everyone away, rip off his jacket, and start flipping and jumping and fist jumping like he had just won the lottery. But he couldn't do that. First off, he was in public and he had to keep his cool. Second, he couldn't do a flip if his life demanded on it. David tried to show him how once and he nearly snapped his neck.<p>

Blaine could hardly contain his excitement when Porcelain took his hand and took him to the dance floor. Part of him was rather shocked by how soft his hands were and pondered if the rest of him was just as soft.

Blaine, who had never set foot on the dance floor while at Club Cheeri-Ohs!, or at any other club for that matter, noticed it was set up almost like the movies. Large hard floor, flashing lights from above, all standing before a large rectangular box where a man – the DJ – stood and played hit and hit while the performers were out entertaining.

When they finally made it to the floor, Porcelain turned to him, his face and chest sparkling as the different colored lights went on and off. And as Britney Spears new single, "Hold It Against Me", began to play, Blaine swallowed hard, hoping his expression didn't show off how nervous he was.

He, as everyone who knows him knows, isn't exactly the best dancer. He danced back while in school, when he was in the Glee club, but that was nothing. They were an all male acapella group who basically swayed and walked to the music. This was different. Much, much different. Now, he was dancing with a professional (or, whatever Porcelain and the others would be considered. Blaine found the word "stripper" or crude and ignorant. They did a lot more than just rip their clothes off.); a hot one for that.

Swaying and walking wasn't gonna cut it!

Still, Blaine does his best to keep his composer as Porcelain began to move. Wrapping his arms around Blaine's next, he brings them closer, his eyes half close and pointing down. Not wanting to just stand their awkwardly, Blaine lifts his hands slowly and places them at Porcelain's sides, holding his waist. After a moment, Blaine begins to get the hang out it and moves his body to the temp of the music. As the song switches, Porcelain releases him and turns quickly, his back nearly touching Blaine's chest. Going for the gold, Blaine lowers his hands, gripping onto Porcelain's hips.

"_Give me something good. Don't wanna wait, I want it now."_

When there are very little words and a lot of music, Porcelain really starts of move. Pushing back, his pressing his back against Blaine's chest, keeping him close. Blaine bits his tongue as Porcelain's dance begins to graze against his crotch, causing a small burning sensation to start. A piece of him (a very hard piece at the moment) wanted to take hold and have him continue. He was wearing leather short shorts, and if anyone knows anything about leather, it's that they hold nothing to the imagination.

But Blaine was better at that. Instead he ignored the pain/pleasure and threw his arm in the arm, fist pumping as he jumped along with the song, tossing his head to side to side enthusiastically.

And as the very last line of the song was said, the two men stood facing one another, sweat beginning to form at their foreheads as they panted, catching their breathes.

"Yeah, I would." Blaine stated, answering the question Ms. Spears had asked.

Porcelain smiled, doing his best to keep his breathing leveled. "Ditto." He replied.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". It was originally going to be a Davana fic, but it turned into a big Klaine story. Yay chapter five! I'm glad you all enjoy this, so please keep reading and commenting. As questioned, all Wes fans, this may not be your cup of tea. No offence to Telly, but he's not exactly a good guy in this story. Annnnnnyway, enjoy!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Santana closed her eyes as she walked down the street, trying to shut out everything other than the Madonna song blasting from her iPod. It was Tuesday, her last day off for the week, and she intended on doing nothing more than measly errands and relaxing. She was usually very aware of her surroundings, but right now she had a major head ache and wanted nothing more than to drown in a Venti Chai Tea and sleep 'til tomorrow comes.<p>

She and Brittany had a new routine to perform, and she had to be at CO's bright and early for one last rehearsal.

Santana looked down momentarily as she turned the corner, her hand reaching into her pocket to retrieve her music player in hopes of shuffling to the next song. Before she could even get it out, she felt something large and hard crash into her, pushing her back several feet.

Staring down at the ground, she noticed papers scatted across the pavement, which must have fallen from the hands of the person she had bumped into.

"Would you watch where you're going?" Santana snapped. Ripping the phones from ears, Santana proceeded to wrap them around her Ipod before shoving it back into her jacket pocket.

"Unless I'm mistaken," the voice from below said. "I believe it was _you_ who wasn't watching."

"Oh really? Well unless you have proof of that, you better just step off before I-" Santana's words died as she looked down, her eyes partly widening as she recognized the face. "David?"

After hearing his name, David stopped what he was doing, looking up at the almost angelic girl before him. It took him a moment, but his eyes nearly popped out in realization.

"Lita?" He asked breathlessly. Scrambling to his pick his fallen papers, Santana kneeled before to help him. "Fancy meeting you here." He says, chuckling softly.

"Yeah," They come to their feet together slowly. Santana is surprised by how different he looks outside of the club. He's not wearing a blazer or some upstanding higher class outfit, but normal jeans, a tee shirt, and a brown leather jacket. He was taller also; then again, every time they've met, she had been wearing a number of different sized heels. A small voice in the back of her mind noted how better he looked in the natural light, rather than the annoy strobe lights going on and off at the club.

"So, what are you doing here?" He questions; acting is if it were some mutual meeting place and not some New York City street.

"It's my day off," she explains, not really knowing why she's telling him all this. "I was just heading over to Starbucks."

"Starbucks?" He repeats not all too nice.

"Yeah. Why, is something wrong with Starbucks?"

"Not really, not unless you like garbage in a cup topped with whip cream." He state matter-of-factly.

Santana stared at him, wondering if he was for real. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head slowly. "Yeah, well. I like their drinks. So if you'd excuse me."

"If you want some real coffee," David says as she walks past him. "I know a great little café a couple blocks from here. Best unknown place in the entire city."

"Thanks, but I think I'll stick with my garbage in a cup." She rebuffs.

"You sure?" He steps forward. "They make a wicked sweet peppermint mocha. It's out of this world."

"Well, maybe I don't like peppermint." She suggests.

David cocked his head to the side, smiling. "Who doesn't like peppermint?"

"Well, maybe I just don't like you?" She muses, smirking.

"It's possible." He shrugs. "But why pass up the chance of a lifetime, just because you don't like somebody?"

Santana sighed heavily. She had less than two hours before she had to get home and finish everything that seemed to be pilling up in front of her. A coffee date wasn't really what she needed right now, but something told her David would've give up until she agreed.

"Fine." She tells him. "But you're buying."

David smiles widely like a champion. "I can do that." Shifting his papers into his shoulder bag, David nods into the direction of the café, that smug smile never leaving his face.

David pulled Lita's chair out after picking one of the smaller tables at Café La Warbler (pronounced War-Bah-Lar).

"So, how did you find this place?" She asks, flipping through the small pocket menus after ordering.

"It was kind of an accident, actually." He states, laughing softly. "I was meeting some colleagues of mine from school and couldn't decide a place to go. We walked around for about an hour or so trying to find a place before we finally just ended up here. Guess you can say I've been hooked ever since."

Both smiled and thanked the waitress as she brought them their drinks and muffins. Lifting his spoon, David placed it in his coffee and swirled it around, watching as the steam slowly lifts from the mug.

"School?" Lita questions, lifting her cup to sip from it slowly.

"Yes. I recently graduated from NYU." David tells her, licking his spoon clean.

Lita's eyes raised, slightly impressed with the statement. "NYU, huh? You are rich." David chuckled at this remark, taking a small sip from his coffee. "What you study?"

"Journalism. I'm a writer for the New York Times."

"Damn. Aren't you important?"

"I wouldn't say that. I'm still just a lower level writer; writing about happy couples getting married, people passing, babies being born. Nothing really that exciting. But my story will come, eventually."

"Good luck to ya." Lita raises her glass to salute him before taking another sip.

David clears his throat, leaning in to speak. "You know, I gotta admit: I almost didn't recognize you outside of Club Cheeri-Ohs!"

"Surprised I'm not in a bustier and short shorts?" She asks dryly.

"No, its just, outside of the club you look for much more . . . what's the word?"

"Less sluttish?" Lita offers.

"Natural." He assures her.

Her hair was down for a change; something David thought how her face isn't overly dolled up in make up or shiny from sweat look made her look so much more statuesque than when her hair is pinned up and she looked like a retro Barbie doll. She was in every day clothes, jeans, tank top, and jacket, though her body still looked as good as it did when she was strutting around in bra and panties. She was shorter without her three to eight inch heels, but kind of David liked that.

Looking at her now, you'd never guess she was a dancer in the night life, but just a normal young woman.

"So, what made you change your mind?" David asks, changing the subject.

"About what?"

"Talking to me."

"Oh. I don't know." She admitted, accidentally smiling a bit at the end of that sentence.

David leans in, a smirk dancing across his lips. "You know its okay. You can admit it. I'm just too handsome to turn away."

Lita laughed then, rolling her eyes at him. "Yeah, that's it. Or it could've been I didn't wanna sit here in silence."

"You could've said no."

Lita leans in as well, her voice low as she spoke. "Would that really have stopped you from asking?"

David smirked again, brighter this time. "No, probably not."

"So saying no wasn't really an option. Look, this is nice and all, chatting with you, but remember what I said the other night. Working at Club Cheeri-Ohs! is just a job. No real attachment or anything. Just singing, dancing, and making money."

"Okay, okay. I can dig it. But keep in mind; we're not at the club right now."

Lita narrows her eyes at him, though her smile remained. "Don't be getting any ideas, Davie. This is coffee and nothing more."

"It is coffee. One you seem to be really enjoying." David raises a brow at her as she polishes off the last of her drink.

"Sorry buddy, I'm a coffee drinker. Doesn't matter what kind, I'm still gonna drink it all."

"Yeah, sure. It has nothing to do with the fact this place is amazing."

"Nope, not at all."

They stared one another down for a moment, a smirk plastered across both their lips. They stayed that way for a while until David nonchalantly reached over, trying to snag her muffin without her noticing. The plan was a failure, of course, leading in her to take his own muffin, and playfully chuck it at his head before leaving.

* * *

><p>On his fourth night at club CO, Blaine built up the courage to ask Porcelain to dance with him again. Both Wes and David had made pervious arrangements, so Blaine was flying solo for the night. That didn't bother him much; he didn't need a crowd around him when he went out. He was perfectly capable of being on his own.<p>

Still, there was something about Porcelain that made him feel like a fifteen year old girl who would text or call her friends giggling every time she saw him smile. Pathetic, he knows.

Along with that feeling, Blaine couldn't help but noticing how two-sided Porcelain could be. The first one came around when he's on the floor, flirting and talking; so sweet and innocent. His eyes shining brightly from the multi-colored lights as he laughs. And then other; when he's performing or dancing on the floor, moving his body in a way that could make even the straightest of men hard.

And that side was with him now, on the dance floor, rubbing up against him. Now Blaine was never the type to go against the grain. He always said no when it came to drugs and rarely ever drank. But dancing with Porcelain had to be in a league of its own. Fun and sexy and hot. That _wantwantwantnownownow_, feeling vibrated through his body as they grinded on the dance floor; porcelain shoving his ass up against Blaine's pelvis, making him hard in very little time.

It was addicting and Blaine knew it.

But he also knew the rules. Five dances to a client and as fate may have it, five dances didn't last very long. After the final one, he and Porcelain said goodbye, and as Blaine left Club Cheeri-Ohs!, he swore he'd get more next time.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Thank you all for reading and commenting. Before I shut up and let you read, I'd just like to remind everyone that this is a Davana **AND **Klaine fic. Yes, there is a bit more Davana than Klaine, and it will be that way for a little while. The reason for that is it's a KLAINE fic, so their drama, their plotline, takes more time, and Davana, its like water to me. So easy to write, I can do it like nothing, so its for spot fillers. I'm sorry if I disappointed you. If you don't like it, believing there is too much Davana to handle, you are free to leave; but please do not complain about it in the reviews, because I have no intention of changing it. Thank you for the time and I hope you enjoy.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Santana took a long sip from her peppermint mocha as she read the text she had received from Brittany. She and Artie were going out for an early dinner before she had to be at CO's and wanted to know if Santana would care to join them. Santana didn't even try to hide her disgust as she rolled her eyes at the message.<p>

She loved Brittany, honestly she did. Britt had been her best friend longer than anyone and she'd do anything for her. But ever since she and Artie became serious she's changed. Well, not by much. She still has that innocent childlike demeanor to her, but whenever they're together, they're just so . . . lovely-dovy. It drives Santana mad just to be in the same room with the two for more than an hour.

Flipping her phone open to type, Santana replies back.

_Can't. Stuff to do. _

She's just about done with her drink when she feels the phone buzzing on the table three different times. Opening it, she sees they're all from Brittany.

_But we're having chicken! _

_Artie wanted fish, but after watching The Little Mermaid last night, I begged him to change his mind. _

_What if right when I was about to take a bite it, it jumps up on my plate and starts singing and dancing! That would ruin dinner for us all! _

Santana couldn't help but to smile at her friend's message. Yup, thing hadn't changed that much.

_Next time. Promise._ She sends.

Shoving her phone back into her pocket, Santana gathers her things, preparing to leave.

"Well, well, well." A voice says. Santana looks up and smiles, rolling her eyes at the sight. "Look who we have here."

"Hello, David." She says kindly.

He struts over, a paper bag in his hands, and stands opposite of her. "What happened? Starbucks get closed down by the Department of Health?"

Santana glared at him, her smile breaking into a smirk. "Funny." David stands for a moment, then pulls out the chair and sits. "Alright, I admit it. Café La War-Bah-Lar is pretty good."

Opening his bag, David pulls out his cinnamon roll, breaking it into two, and places half to the girl in front of him.

"Carmel espresso?"

"Peppermint mocha. I swear, its gonna go straight to my ass, but God damn it's addicting." Santana says; ripping her half into bite sized pieces.

David, who smiled after the word "ass", chuckles softly. "Yeah, well, Café La Warbler will do that to ya." They sat in silence for a long moment, enjoying the sweet and spiciness of the cinnamon roll, until finally David broke it. "You know, I realized something the other night."

"And what would that be?"

"Well, we're friends right?" Santana's eyes raised at the word "friends". "I mean, we dance together at the club. We have coffee almost every week."

"Where is this leading, choir boy?"

"Somewhere good, I hope. Look, its no secret that I like you. And I'm about ninety percent sure you like me too." Santana stares at him, saying nothing. "Fifty percent?" Again, nothing. "Alright, you don't hate me."

"Ding, ding, ding. Correct answer."

"So I think its time you tell me about yourself."

"There's nothing to tell." Santana says. "Nothing important anyway."

"Sure there is!" David encourages. "Like what your real name is."

"You know my name."

David laughs an obnoxious, yeah-right kind of laugh. "Sure, you're name is Lolita. And Porcelain's name is actually Porcelain. Look, I may not be the brightest crayon in the coloring box, but even I can point out a stripper name when I hear one."

Santana leans back in her chair, her eyes down on the table, watching as she swirled her spoon around and around in her refilled drink. She wasn't really used to clients wanting to get to know her; at least outside of the bedroom. Though David wasn't the first to want more from her (though for the others, more meant more sex and less money), but he was definitely one of the first to actually make a real attempt at it.

As the light bulb above her head click on, Santana bit her lip, grinning shortly.

"I have an idea. Let's play a game."

"What kind of game?"

"I'll give you three hints and we'll see if you can guess my name."

"And if I keep getting it wrong?"

"Game over and it's Lita. At least, until next time."

Part of her wondered why she added the 'until next time' to her words, but she didn't let herself think about it.

"Alright, sounds fair. So what's the first clue?"

"It's not very common."

"Oh. So it's a strange name? Maybe old fashioned?" Santana brought her fingers to her lips, motioning a small zipper across them. "Alright, lemme see. Alba?"

"What? No."

"Okay. Bambi?"

"Do I look like a fuckin deer?"

"Layla? Carina? Nala?" "Nala? Okay, stop naming Disney characters! I promise you my name doesn't fit into that category."

"Maybe the second hint would help."

"Alright. It's the name of a band."

"You're name is the name of a band?" Santana nods stiffly. "Alright. Lemme think. Abba?"

"No."

"BeeGee?"

"Hell no!"

"Dexy?"

"I don't usually go running after midnight. Look, think Latin rock."

"I like music as much as the next guy, but there are tons of bands out there. How am I to choose the one that could be a name?"

"Fine, I'll give you the final hint. It rhymes with bandana."

"Bandana? Bandana, bandana. Bandana band." Santana couldn't help but to smile at his frustration. She didn't have the most common name in the world, so it easily amused her when people tried to guess. Cruel, of course, but she couldn't stop herself. "Wait!" He jumped. "Crap, I know which one! They had that song. Fuck! Why can't I remember? _"Gimme me your heart, make it real, or else forget about it"_ I remember that song!"

"You got the lyrics, but what's the band's name?"

"Ugh! I don't remember. It's on the tip of my tongue!"

Santana looked down at her watching, noticing the time. Grabbing her bag, she stood from the table. "Well, this has been a blast, but I gotta go. See ya later, Davie."

Tossing the strap over her shoulder, Santana left the café. Taking her iPod out, she put her earphones in and turned it on. Scrolling, she found the song. "Smooth", by Santana, featuring Rob Thomas. She was just about to click play when she heard someone calling behind her.

"Santana!" Turning slowly, she found David standing several feet away from her, smiling widely. "It's Santana, isn't it?"

If it was any other guy, and other client, she would've denied it. But this was David, and he won fair and square.

"Good boy." She says before walking away, leaving a fist pumping David behind.

* * *

><p>Blaine had never seen Club Cheeri-Ohs! this busy. There had always been a good amount of people there, but tonight it seemed like the normal rate had doubled. It seemed like all men, women, and everyone in between showed up tonight, checking out the dancers, drinking hard, and enjoying the night.<p>

Sylvester, the owner, must love it. Blaine, not so much. It's not a secret to as why he comes to Club CO, and that's to see Porcelain. The problem with tonight is, because it was so busy, it's been more like the exact opposite. He's been there for almost four hours and spoke to Porcelain only five times (each convo lasting less than two minutes) and danced twice.

Now Blaine wasn't really a selfish person, honest he wasn't. He never had problems sharing his toys when he was younger. But right now all he wanted to do was push the others away and claim Porcelain as his own. But he couldn't do that, could he? Because Porcelain wasn't his. Not even for the taking.

Finally, when it was getting to that forth hour mark, Blaine made his way to the front of the line and got to dance with Porcelain. He did his best to talk while on the dance floor, though the thought was easier said than done. Do you know how hard it is to have a conversation over Kesha's auto-tuned screams? Pretty hard!

"This place is really hot tonight!" He shouts over the music. "Business must be booming!"

"Nights like these are rare, but welcomed!" Porcelain states. He bits his lip after a moment, his eyes dim. "I'm sorry about this!" He says. "If I had known it would've been this busy, I would've had you go home earlier!"

Blaine can't help but to smile at his sweetness. He had to admit, even though spending four hours at a place you really don't like and only getting to dance with the guy you do only three times sucked – like really sucked – but it was worth it.

"It's nothing! You're worth the wait!"

Porcelain stopped moving for a moment, a large smile broke in across his lips. And even with all the different colored lights going on and off, Blaine could swear he saw him blush.

The rest of their dance was filled with silence, though their bodies did most of the talking for them. Sadly, the song came to an end and not a second later, Porcelain being called away.

"Let's go, Lady!" A small girl with a clipboard said to him, pulling him arm. "Get your butt off the floor and find some more clients!"

"Alright, Becky, I'm going." Porcelain assured her sharply.

"Remember! Time is money!" She told him before scurrying off the floor.

Porcelain turned towards him them, smiling brokenly. "I'm sorry, but I gotta go."

Blaine wanted to say something to him, give him a better offer, but he couldn't. Instead he remained silent and watched Porcelain walk away to find another client. Part of him said it was time to go home. To give up and return next week, but that little voice in the back of his head told him not to. Not yet.

And then the light bulb above his head went off. He liked Porcelain. _Like _liked him. And he was letting him walk away, just like that. But what could he do? There were tons of other potential clients here . . . what could Blaine offer him that would get him ahead of the rest.

But then he remembered something Porcelain had mentioned once. The dancers were to never deny a clients request unless given permission from Sylvester or if another better offer came along. And Blaine knew a better offer.

Blaine turned on his head, pushing through the crowd to find where Porcelain had headed off too. When he found him, he was almost toe-to-toe with an older man, who practically stared him down as if he was gonna lean over and lick his skin off.

"You got pretty lips, you know that?" Buffalo Bill told Porcelain slowly, looking the younger man up and down. "I bet you're good with those things."

Blaine could practically _hear_ his eyes roll to that line. After that, he knew what he had to do, not only for himself, but for Porcelain. Anyone who would start a conversation with _that_ was definitely worth getting away from. Holding his head high, Blaine marched over.

"Porcelain!" He says, catching their attention.

"Blaine," he leans away from BB.

"I have an offer to make for you." He informs him.

"Beat it, kid. My little sex pistol and I were talkin here." BB says rudely, pulling Porcelain back to him. Porcelain leaned away, though allowed the man to hold on.

"First off, ew. Second, I have an offer to make, so if you would kindly release him."

The man continued to hold onto Porcelain until the younger man finally spoke up.

"Jobs a job, Rick."

Buffalo Bill/Rick/Creeper rolled his eyes as he let Porcelain go. Rubbing his arm where the man had gripped, Porcelain stepped away, moving to stand face to face with Blaine.

"What is it?" He asked.

Blaine gazed, not moving for a moment. Porcelain's face was covered in glitter, which was slowly beginning to drip away due to the sweat. Yet, his sea colored eyes made him look amazing. Reaching into his pocket, Blaine pulled out his wallet, retrieving the money.

"Three hundred, right?" He asked.

"Blaine!" Porcelain stepped back, not expecting this move from a guy like him. "What are you-"

Blaine cut him off, closing the space between them. "Three hundred for a room. Just you and me. Can we do that?"

Porcelain stared flabbergasted, his eyes going back and forth between the money and Blaine's pure browns. For a split second, Blaine wondered if this was a mistake. Maybe Porcelain didn't want that from him? They became somewhat friends after their time together. Maybe Porcelain isn't into fucking friends? Blaine was about to virtually kick himself and tell him to forget it, when Porcelain finally spoke up.

"Sorry, Rick." He told the man behind them. "Looks like I got a better offer. Maybe next time." Looking into his eyes, Porcelain took Blaine's hand. "Come with me." He says, proceeding to take him to the mysterious back room.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Chapter Seven! I hope you enjoy it! You get deeper into the whole Klaine/Davana thing. Learn more about David's past and Blaine deals with being close to "Porcelain"

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>The back rooms to Club Cheeri-Ohs! weren't exactly what you'd expect. Most people, when they come to these sorts of places, expect some dirty room with a solid bed; one you could very easily catch something just by sitting on it (even with clothes on).<p>

It was the exact opposite, actually. Each room was decorated for a different theme (Winter Wonderland, Summer Get-Away, Midnight) and was thoroughly cleaned and inspected after every use. It was designed almost like a normal bedroom. A kind sized bed. A small dresser beside it (filled with condoms and toys in case the guy wanted to have a little fun – though that cost extra), and a long body mirror.

Kurt was shocked by all this when he first started working. He never knew how innocent you could make a place look; especially one so . . . not innocent. Then again, Sylvester may have been a money-hungry wench sometimes, but even she knew a lawsuit before it would even come.

Turning back from his thoughts, Kurt found Blaine as a timidly close distance. Their hands had been touching since they first walked off, but from the moment they walked behind that black curtain, their bodies remained less than ten inches apart.

It was accustom for the client to choose which room they would go to, but when Kurt asked, he received the typical client answer: doesn't matter. Picking his favorite, though rarely used, Kurt took Blaine to the Forest Twilight room. He didn't exactly know why it was his favorite, but it was. The colors were darkish green and blue, with a bit of brown, and white, and sky blue thrown in. It gave a very late summer, bitter spring vibe; one Kurt enjoyed greatly, though he told no one.

Switching on the light, Kurt walked into the middle of the room, leaving Blaine to stand by the door, staring in shock.

"Impressed?" Kurt ventured after a moment of silence.

"Yeah, kinda. It's uh . . . not really what I had in mind." Blaine answered, hands stuffed into his pockets.

"You're not the first to think that. Sue takes care of this place; it's her baby after all." Blaine nods, but says nothing. His eyes stay on the floor for a long moment as he sway's his body back and forth slowly. Kurt gives in finally, having never seen this sort of reaction before. "Are you okay?"

"What?" Blaine looks up suddenly, his hands pulled out from his pockets and beginning to fold across his chest. "Oh! Yeah. Totally."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, yeah." Blaine answers quickly. Kurt says nothing, but he doesn't need to speak to tell Blaine he knows he's lying. "I'm fine, honestly. I guess I'm a bit . . . I don't. A bit nervous."

Blaine winces at the word, his hand flying up to rub the back of his neck. Kurt tries to hide his surprise and he guessed it worked well, because Blaine didn't say anything about it. Instead he went back to staring at the floor. Kurt wasn't used to someone being nervous when it same to sex. Most of his clients were either too drunk or too hard to even worry about anything. Once he even had to bump up the price, because the guy was too drunk and hard to even put the condom on correctly and even tried to bite Kurt while he was doing it for him.

But this was Blaine. Blaine, who took weeks to even ask Kurt to dance; who would talk to him about music, and art, and fashion, and movies. And who would blush like a high school girl whenever he was given a compliment. It was no secret Blaine was different from most clients . . . from most men.

"Don't worry, I get that a lot." He lies, hoping to sooth the man before him. Blaine half smiles, looking up with large puppy-like eyes.

Kurt could look into those eyes forever, but something stops him. In the corner of his eye, he notices the security camera in the corner of the wall, blinking red. Kurt always thought it was off that Sue kept a camera in the room, though she swore it was to make sure no funny business was going on while they clients and dancers were alone.

Kurt also knew that, just like on the floor, if you pass a certain time mark, you're out. If nothing with went on after five minutes alone together, Sue would come barging in, throwing Blaine out and keeping the money for herself. Not wanting either of those things to happen, Kurt got down to business.

"Well, we should probably get started." He says, cleaning his throat. "In the upper draw of the dresser we have condoms and lube. They differ in types, flavors, and sizes. Feel free to choose whichever you like."

Blaine nods, listening to each other Kurt says carefully.

"Um, the second draw is filled with toys." Blaine's eyes meet Kurt's the moment the word is said, though he says nothing. "All are good for use, though it cost extra."

"I think I'll be alright." Blaine says breathlessly, smiling shyly.

"Alright. Well, I guess there's one last thing." Blaine watches Kurt, waiting. "Top or bottom?"

"P-pardon?"

"Do you want to be top or bottom? I've done both and it's the clients choice whether he wants to be catching or pitching."

"Oh!" Blaine says; eyes wide as he catches Kurt's drift. "Um, t-top."

Kurt nods, turning his head to hide his smile and possible blush. It's somewhat obvious Kurt's attracted to him, has been since he first laid his eyes on him. But that wasn't why he liked him. No, looks weren't everything to Kurt. They never were. It was the way he laughed and smiled. How he would act like a total gentlemen, even in a place that's utterly and completely gentlemen-less. He made Kurt feel . . . well, human. Not just like some nameless Cheeri-Ohs! dancer.

"I, um, I guess we better get started." Blaine's words cut into Kurt's thoughts, bringing him back into reality. He was there, with Blaine, who had just paid for a room. A room in which things will be going down in. And by down, I mean sweet, sweet, man on man sex.

Nodding in agreement, Kurt turns and sits on the mattress, looking so small and fragile against the giant dark-blue sea of sheets beneath him. Blaine watches him for a moment, but then he's on the move. Swift like a jackrabbit, Blaine is by his side, sitting inches away from him.

His brown eyes switch back and forth between Kurt's eyes and his lips, and Kurt knows what he's thinking. That act was forbidden at club CO. No matter how much they paid, a dancer and a client were to never kiss. It was far too intimate and that's not what Cheeri-Ohs! was about.

Kurt knew he should say something, but the moment Blaine lifted his hand and cupped his cheek, he couldn't help but to lean into it, sighing softly. His eyes flickered to the camera just above Blaine's head and he knew Sylvester was watching. He also knew he'd be in a hell of a lot of trouble if he let this continue.

Forcing his eyes closed, Kurt pushed away his own desire; that feeling that ran throughout his entire body, Kurt found his voice.

"Blaine,"

"I'm sorry."

Kurt's eyes broke up, but it was too late. Blaine was standing, walking away from the bed, from Kurt.

"W-what?"

"I'm sorry, Porcelain, I can't do this." Blaine explained quickly.

"What? Blaine, what's going on?" Kurt turned towards him, reaching out, but Blaine was already out of reach.

He shook his head as he backed away, his eyes dark with despair. "I'm sorry, I just . . . I can't do this. I have . . . I have to go." Blaine opened the door to leave, but stopped and turned one last time. His eyes met Kurt's and for a second, it looked like he was going to say something, an explanation. Turning away, he mutters one last "I'm sorry" before heading out the door.

Kurt stares at it without a word, his head cocking to the side in sheer confusion.

_What?_

* * *

><p>"For the last time, the answer is <em>no<em>!"

David leaned back in seat, laughing helplessly. Coffee with Santana had become almost a weekly ritual for them now. Every Tuesday and/or Wednesday they'd meet up at Café La Warbler and just talk. They went back and forth between paying, though David insisted he'd take care of it, seeing as it was his idea in the first place.

"Oh, come on! It'll be fun!"

They sat there now, in their same table, talking and laughing over peppermint mochas and chai teas, acting as if the world around them didn't exist.

"I am _not_ playing Never Have I Ever with you!" Santana expressed.

"Why?" David whined childishly.

"First off, there are only two of us. Second, we're drinking coffee, not Jack Daniels. And besides, with me, that game would be over before you even counted to ten."

Taking her mug, Santana sipped her drink, smirking at the sight of David's impressed expression.

"Alright, how about Truth or Dare?" He mused.

"What are you, nine?"

"Plus fourteen." Santana rolled her eyes at his unassuming wit. "Come on, what's the worst that could happen? It's just a game, remember?"

Santana stared him down, but eventually craved. "Fine!"

David smiled triumphantly, scooting his chair in to get closer. "Sweet! Alright, me first. Truth or dare?"

"Dare." Santana said with a smirk.

"Okay. I dare you to eat the salt."

"Seriously?" Reaching over, Santana took the salt shaker, pouring a hefty amount into her hand. Bringing it to her mouth, she empty the contents, swallowing it gradually. "Kid stuff." She commented. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth." David tells her.

"Wimp." She grins. "Did you always want to me a journalist?"

"Always. I mean, when I was really little I wanted to be an astronaut, a cowboy, even a moose."

"Moose?" Santana mimicked.

"I was three, don't ask. Anyway, when I was in the fifth grade, my school held a writing contest. Well, I entered and won. It was amazing, because I really didn't expect to win, you know? I was just having a blast doing it. Anyway, since that day on, I knew it's what I wanted to do."

Santana nods slowly, having no snarky or rude comment to make on the subject.

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"Okay. . . . I dare you to lick me."

"What!"

"Well the salt thing was too kiddy, maybe kinky is more your style."

The two had a short stare down before Santana rolled her eyes and reached across the table. Bringing his hand to her mouth, Santana licked one slow, long trail across the back of David's hand; her eyes never leaving his as she performed the deed.

"Happy?"

"Yeah, I think that works."

"Truth or dare."

"Dare."

"I dare you to lick yourself."

"You can't do that! It's against the rules."

"You never said anything about rules."

"Everyone knows that in truth or dare, you can't repeat someone's dare or question. It's just not cool."

"Fine! Jeez. I dare you to change your ring tone from whatever it is to Barbie Girl by Aqua."

"I would, but I don't have that song on my phone."

Santana, who already had her phone out, pushed several buttons before looking up, smiling. "You do now."

A moment passed and David's phone began to vibrate. Opening it, he sighed heavily and did as requested. And it was done, he turned on the sound. Reopening her phone, Santana hit David's number and hit send. After a few seconds, the phone went off and the song began to play. Santana laughed girlishly as the people around them stared. Turning the sound off, David shoved his phone into his jacket pocket.

"You know I'm gonna change it when I leave, right?"

"Oh shut up and ask me a question."

"Fine. Truth or dare."

"Truth."

David said nothing as he thought of his question. "Why do you work at the club?" He asked finally.

"Easy. There are three things in this world I'm good at: singing, dancing, and sex. At Club Cheeri-Ohs! I can do all three and make money."

"Did you ever think about working elsewhere? Somewhere you can sing and dance and not have to sell yourself?"

Santana lifted her hand, stopping him from continuing. "Look, I know being a singer/dancer/stripper/escort isn't the best job in the world, but it's what I know. I've done it since I got out of school and I'll be doing it for years to come. Being Lita is who I am."

David nods, not bothering to continue. "Your turn to ask." He tells her.

Santana looks down at her cup as she swirls her spoon around. Bringing it to her mouth, she lips it clean. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Okay. I got it. Our time wasn't half bad together. You actually knew what you were doing, which was nice; especially for someone in my position."

"I'm flattered, Santana."

"A guy like you must've have tons of action back in the day. Tell me about that."

"You want me to tell you about my sex life?" Santana nods, her cheery flavored lip glass shining in the light. "Okay." He agreed before taking a long breath. "I've actually only slept with two people in my entire life."

Santana's mouth hung open, her head cocking to the side. "What? Bull-shit!"

"It's true. There was my one time with you. And then there was my ex."

"Oh."

"We had . . . broken up a couple months back. I guess you can say we wanted different things. And . . ."

"And?"

". . . She cheated on me."

Santana's expression fell completely, her eyes dropping down. "So . . . that's why. With Wes. The no sharing thing."

"It's me and me alone or not me at all." David explained. "We had known one another since we were kids, Hannah and I. Our parents were friends and would set us up on play dates. Soon play turned into real and we started going out. We were together almost all though out high school and were going to start living together after college . . . but then that happened." David laughed bitterly, sighing heavily as he leaned back in his chair, eyes gazing out the window. "You know, I used to think sex was supposed to be with someone you love."

"Its not." Santana told him. Their eyes met and for a second, David thought he would start crying. "You don't have sex when you love the person. It's so much more than that. Sex is used by people with a connection and actually that care about the people. While fucking is the exact opposite of each. You can't let some . . . ditz who couldn't keep her legs closed for anyone else but her man make you lose sight of that."

David stared at the woman before him. The same woman who first snubbed him to sleep with his one of his best friends for an extra fifty dollars. And the same woman sitting with him now, drinking coffee, and telling him not to lose hope.

"You're smart, you know that?"

"We've had coffee how many times and you're _just_ realizing that?" Reaching forward, Santana takes her cup, lifting it in the air. "Let's make a cheer."

"To what?" David asks, doing the same with his glass.

"To sex . . . money . . . and doing whatever the fuck we want."

"I'll take that." David says, tapping his cup against hers before bringing it his mouth for a sip. "So, truth or dare?"


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Okay! So this chapter is mainly Davana, but it has Blaine in it and you learn more about what happened in the pervous chapter and what Blaine's gonna do about it. Thank you all soo much for baring with me. I've gotten so much crap for having Davana in this fic. It IS a Klaine fic, though the Klaine drama is gonna take a little time. I promise you it's worth it. Until then, enjoy.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Santana stared out the glass window at Café La Warbler, her mind wandering. The previous night at the club had been a long and exhausting one, making in Santana arrive home three hours later than normal, beaten down and tired, wanting nothing more than to sleep straight until Wednesday.<p>

But she knew she had to meet David for coffee at ten, and as loud as the voice in her mind shouted for her to bale, she sucked it up, took her three hours of sleep, and headed out, doing her best of ignore the throbbing in her head and bags slowly beginning to form under her eyes.

"Santana!" David's voice broke though her thoughts, loud and piercing.

Shaking her head, she turns towards him. "What?"

"Were you listening to me? I said the rain's finally stopping."

"Oh," Santana looked out the window once again, noticing the rain had indeed come to an end.

"Hey," Looking down, she noticed David had taken hold of her hand. His skin was warm against her, though she let it go unseen. "You alright? You seem a bit out of it today."

Santana leaned back, letting David hold her hand while she ran the other through her hair, sighing heavily. "I'm fine. Just had a pretty rough night . . . didn't get much sleep." She explains.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" He suggests softly.

Santana laughed at the thought. Last night was busy. Really busy. She performed two Tina Turner songs and had to change three times (each outfit having more and more to take off). After that she danced with four different men and two women. Gave a hand job to a sixty year old and finally ended up in the back room with a guy who had a slight obsession with Star Trek and continued to cry out the name Uhura the entire time. Long story short, the night was a disaster.

And here was David. Her friend. Who was holding her hand and wanted to hear all about it. Good idea? Not so much.

"Yeah. I don't think so."

"Alright. Do you maybe wanna leave? You know, go and relax?" Santana thought about it for a moment, then nods. Relaxing felt good now. "Come on." David urges, standing from his seat. Grabbing her things, Santana did the same and walked out. "Hey, you forgot this."

Santana turned to see David holding out her phone. She smiled softly as she took it from him, their fingers brushing against each others. They stood there on the sidewalk, their eyes never leaving one another's. Reaching forward, David brushed a stray hair away from her eyes; his knuckles grazing against her skin slowly.

She knew they shouldn't be doing this. Even if it was just simple touching, it was far more intimate than she had expected to get with David outside the club. She opened her mouth to say something, to stop this before something else happened, but before she could, a car drove by speeding, splashing them with the muddy left over rain water that formed into a puddle on the street.

Gasping in shock, Santana jumped back, looking down at her now drenched outfit. David, who although had also been hit, began laughing, almost doubling over in the process.

"Why the _hell_ are you _laughing_!" Santana shouted, licking her lips then spitting over the taste of dirt and whatever else was in that puddle.

"I'm sorry! I just . . . that's so funny!"

"Would you stop it! Look at me! My apartment is almost twenty blocks away and there's no way in hell I'll be able to catch a cab!"

David, who was finally start to catch his breath, stood straight, his smile bright. "I have an idea." He says. "Come to my apartment." Santana started at him, her brows raised. "Seriously. It's less than ten blocks west and we'll be able to dry off." Santana said nothing; hesitating. "Hey, it's either that or walks all the way back to your apartment covered in muck." David stated.

Apparently that's all it took. Santana let out a harsh cry of frustration before finally agreeing. "Fine! Lead the way!" Turning his back, Santana would swear David was smiling, even giggling softly as she groaned while she whined over her clothes as they walked to his apartment.

* * *

><p>David's apartment was . . . well, exactly what Santana expected. He lived in one of the nicer apartments buildings, smack dab in SoHo; top floor, of course. Completely different from her lower end apartment which was barely a third of what his was. She was impressed and jealous at the same time.<p>

"Penthouse, choir boy?" She asks, giving it a look around.

David laughes, removing his jacket and tossing it on the back of the couch. "Barely. Blaine and I only moved in here a couple months ago after he got the job at Metro. Nothing special."

"Yeah, except for the fact it's a loft and about thirty times bigger than place."

"Bigger doesn't mean better, Santana." Santana stared for a moment before breaking out into laughter. That wasn't what David meant, but she didn't care. It was funny all in the same.

"Yeah, okay Dave."

"You know, you got hit pretty badly. Maybe you should take a shower?"

Santana smirked at his offer. "Trying to get me naked, Davie?"

David jumped back. "What? No! I mean, look at your clothes. You have dirt in your hair. I was just, you know, trying to help."

Santana couldn't help but to laugh at his nervousness. You'd think someone who paid for sex and dancing wouldn't be this much of a dork. "Chill, Porter. I was joking. I'd love to take one, actually."

"Oh! Okay. Awesome. Here, lemme show you." David led her to the full bathroom, which looked big enough to fit twenty people in. It was crystal white and perfectly clean. "Everything you need is here: shampoo, conditioner, soap, and body lotion." Santana gave him an odd look. "Gay roommate, remember?" He reminded her. "Anyway, if you need anything else, just give shout. I'll go find something for you to put on until you get back to your place."

"You aren't gonna join me?" Santana teased as he left the room. She giggled as David began to stutter and blush. "Joking, Davie." She says, shutting the door.

After stripping down, Santana turns on the hot water and steps in, sighing calmly as it over took her body. It had been a while since she had taken a warm shower and was slowly allowing her body to shut down. With the long hours and needy clients, relaxing wasn't exactly something Santana got to do anymore.

Come to think about it, aside from when she's asleep (which wasn't much, since she tosses and turns for as long as she could remember), her coffee non-dates (he insisted they were dates, she refused to call them that) with David were the closest thing to relaxing she had done in years.

With David, she didn't have to play the part of Lolita. He didn't ask for anything, no sex for free or simply fooling around. Just coffee and time together. And that was new to Santana. She didn't mind it, but it was new nonetheless. The real problem was whether she liked it or not.

After her shower, Santana took one of the large white towels and wrapped it around her body before leaving the bathroom, a cloud of steam following her as she walked.

"David?" She called, finding him nowhere.

"One second!" He called from one of the bedrooms. "I found some stuff for you to wear. I didn't think you'd fit in my clothes, so I was gonna barrow from Blaine, but then I remembered I packed some of my clothes from High school that doesn't fit me anymore. It's not much, but it'll do for now."

Santana moved towards the window, watching as the wind thrashed back and forth and the rain drops crashed heavily down onto the glass and brick stone.

"The rain picked up again, so I think you might be stranded here for a while. I put your clothes in the wash, hope you don't mind."

Turning away, Santana motioned towards the bed room in which she heard David's voice coming from. Ironically, David was leaving the room at the same moment, leading in them crashing into one another.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't mean, um. I uh. . . ." David's words died as he caught sight of Santana. She was naked, all but a towel, and soaking wet. Clearing his throat, David covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes never leaving her body. "Sorry." He spoke at least.

Recognizing the look in his eye, Santana smiles wickedly. She had seen it many times on men at the club. That undeniable look of want and need. Hoping to have fun with this, Santana leaned back on her heels, her arms folding at her chest.

"See anything you like, Davie?"

"Hmm?" David hums, his eyes breaking away from her body to meet her own. "What?"

"They're real you know." She says, stepping closer. "Most people say that aren't. Sue actually offered to buy me some new ones, but I think mine are fine the way they are. Don't you agree?"

"What? Oh! Yeah, totally." His eyes lowered themselves back down to her body, his mouth ajar.

"Hmm, really? Maybe you should take a better look. Just to make sure." Removing her arms, Santana gripped the top of the towel, slowly beginning to open it.

And just like that, the door swung open, a rain dripping Blaine in the door way. He looked up, his mind taking a moment to realize what it was he was seeing.

"Oh. Oh! Oh, God! David, I am so sorry!" Blaine jumped back, his hand shielding his eyes.

Santana, who had yet to fully open the towel, pulled it back, and turned towards the intruder. "Well, hello pretty boy."

Blaine looked open, peeping through his fingers. "Lolita?" Blaine removed his hands and smiled awkwardly, filling the room with an eerie silence. "Um, hi!"

"We got caught in the rain during coffee. She took a shower." David explained, trying to make the moment less uncomfortable.

"Oh!" Blaine nods understandingly, though Santana is sure it's just an act.

Clearing his throat, David turns his attention back on the half naked girl before him. "Uh, here. This, um, this should be enough." Taking the clothes from his hands, Santana heads back to the bathroom.

Thankfully, along with the clothes, David had given her handed back her still clean undergarments, though Santana shivered at the thought of him touching her stuff. David didn't seem like the creeper type, but you never know. Checking out the clothes, she saw that she was given plain white tank top, black sweatpants, and fuzzy socks.

Changing slowly, she realizes that she could hear the conversation coming from the other room and began to listen.

"What the hell man, what is she doing here?" Blaine whispery shouted.

"I told you! We were having coffee and got caught in the rain. I wasn't gonna let her go all the way back to her apartment in this!"

"Alright, alright. I believe you. Kind of weird though, seeing her outside of the club. Almost didn't recognize her."

"She looks good outside. Way better without all that make up and glitter thrown on her."

"Yeah. And having her walk around in a towel is just a bonus, right?" Blaine jokes.

"Funny." David said dryly. "How was work?"

"Ugh, boring." Blaine plopped down onto the couch, kicking his feet onto the coffee table. "Who knew there were so many divas in the music industry?"

"Everyone." David laughed. "So how did Sunday night go?"

"Terrible!" Blaine groaned. "I walked in, saw him on the floor flirting with some guy in a suit and bolted out."

"Seriously? You paid fifty dollars just to run out with your tail between your legs. Sort of a pussy move, B."

"Oh shut up. And I have a penis, thank you very much. And I'm sure Porcelain would just love to knee me in it the first chance he gets. Not that I blame him."

_Porcelain? Kurt!_ Santana, who was finished getting dressed and beginning to dry her hair with the towel, leaned in, listening some more.

"Come on, man. It can't be as bad as you say it was."

"I spent over five hundred dollars in one night and ended up running out like the loser that I am. God! If my parents could see me now. They would just _love_ knowing I've been spending almost my entire pay check on the job of my dreams so that at the end of the day, I could see a guy that probably hates my guts."

"Love sucks, doesn't it?" David mused.

"Tell me about it." Blaine moaned, sighing heavily.

Tossing the towel into the sink, Santana walked out of the bathroom, her arms across her chest as she reached the living room.

"You broke him, you know." She stated.

"Hmm?" Blaine, who had his eyes shut and head back against the couch hummed.

"Porcelain. He hasn't been the same since your so called night together. Sue took all the money, by the way. The three hundred dollars you gave for the room. Since you guys didn't do anything, she figured he didn't deserve it and took it all for herself."

"Oh, well that's just _grand_!" Blaine let out a long groan, mentally stabbing himself. "He _haaaaates_ me!"

Santana rolled her eyes at the pathetic boy in front of her. David, who had settled himself on the arm of the couch, placed a hand on his shoulder sympathetically.

"Oh, shut up!" She said; both men looked up at her, their hands to the side. "He doesn't hate you. More like the exact opposite. All he has been talking about is why you ran out. 'Was it me? Was it something I did or said? Maybe because I wasn't with him the entire night? Or maybe my outfit? My hair? What could it be!' Ugh, I swear if he doesn't shut up on Friday, Ima slap him across his glassy little face."

Blaine, who sat up after hearing her words, gazed at her eagerly, his pearly whites burning bright in the lights. "So . . . he doesn't hate me?" He asks. Santana moans. _Is he for real?_ "That's great! Oh man, I gotta see him! I gotta see him now!"

Blaine jumps up, heading towards the door.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you!" Santana warns. Blaine stops in his tracks. "It's the first night of my day off, so Porce and Char will be running the show by themselves. And seeing as I'm the most popular and well, most wanted, performer, they're gonna have a hell of a lot to do."

"Great. So when do you get back to work?"

"Wednesday, but then that's his day off. He won't be back until Friday."

Blaine's expression fell, his body slumping over loosely. "I have to wait until Friday?" He exclaimed.

"Well, you could go that. Or, you could wait until he gets out tomorrow and meet him then. Tuesdays are pretty slow, so they let out early. Around one or two in the morning, usually. Besides, if it's as bad as you say, he'd probably be more flattered that way."

Blaine smiles, living the sound of making Porcelain feel flattered and cared about. "Thanks! I think I'll do that. Hey, I got some work to do, so I'll leave you two alone." Heading off into his room, Blaine shut the door behind him.

Standing alone together in the living room, Santana and David turned towards one another, both smiling sweetly.

"That was nice of you." David says, standing up from the couch.

"Yeah, well. Anything to stop Porcelain's whining." Santana tells him, yawning tiredly at the end.

"The rain isn't gonna let up anytime soon, why don't you take a nap? My bed is pretty soft, so I'm sure it won't take long for you to pass out."

"Hmm, you gonna join me, cutie?"

"Teasing again, Ms. Lita?" David eyed her, a smirked breaking across both their lips.

"Actually, that was a real offer, but if you'd rather stay in here all alone."

"I'm not going to sleep. I have paperwork to do and I'm not tired. But, I will lay with you if you like."

"Better than nothing." Santana commented, following David to the bedroom.

David wasn't lying when he said his bed was soft. It was a queen sized mattress with clean, white sheets and a matching comforter. Santana felt small as she crawled on top of it, pushing the blanket down and over her as she settled in. David lied beside her over the covers, his head resting on his hand which was propped up by his elbow.

"Just gonna sit there and watch me?" Santana asked blankly.

"Just until you fall asleep." David assured her.

Santana wanted to say something; that he didn't have to stay and watch over her like she was a small child. Or that he should stay and they could do something other than rest, something that involved kissing and embracing and the loss of clothing. But she was honestly too exhausted to do either those and let herself drift off into dream hand.

And even though she was sure it was instead, just part of her fuzzy half-sleeping half-awake state, Santana could've sworn she felt David kiss her forehead before getting up to leave.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Yay! An all Klaine chapter! Sorry for the late update (FanFic was bein kinda mean yesterday...) Oh! And incase some people are kind of confused, I made some minor changes and forgot to tell you. The club that Santana/Brittany/Kurt work at is called Cheeri-Ohs!, instead of New Directions as it was in the first chapter. ND will be the name of another club, but thats in a few chapters away. Also, Schue doesn't work at CO's anymore, he owns ND (like thats not ironic!) Ummm, I don't believe there is anything else. Please enjoy!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Blaine leaned back against the heavily graffiti painted brick wall, his arms wrapped around his chest. It was a little after two AM and the sky was dark, though the city continued to boom. He had been there since twelve, just sitting in the shadows and waiting for the show to be over, for Porcelain to do his job, and to get out.<p>

He went relatively unnoticed, except for when the new bouncer, Azimio, caught sight of him. He threatened to have him throw out, saying it was private property and wouldn't be getting in for free. Blaine, who was more of a lover than a fighter, stood his ground and kindly told the bigger man that he was just waiting for someone and that he didn't want to cause any problem. Az continued to harass him for a moment, but then went back to ignoring him, and Blaine went back to his wall.

He was nervous, that was for sure. He knew this was a big step, seeing Porcelain outside of the club, and Blaine's blood ran hot when he thought about how he would react. He fought his inner monologue before showing up, deciding whether or not to bring anything or to even show up at all.

Blaine went over everything he wanted to say in his mind. How sorry he was for running how, how much he likes spending time with Porcelain and how he wanted to get to one him outside of Club Cheeri-Ohs! He was still doing this when the back door opened and the performers walked out, Charity and Porcelain being two of them.

Blaine watched carefully as they all went their separate ways, Charity and Porcelain shared a long embrace before she headed off with the others, leaving Porcelain on his own. Blaine took a long breath and counted to three before making his move.

_One. Two. Three!_

"P-Porcelain!" He called out. The younger man stopped and turned around, his silhouette shining in the moon light. His makeup had been washed away and he was in a white shirt and skinny jeans, all of which was covered by a long black leather trench coat. "Wow." He breathed, no words coming to his mind on how to describe the sight before him.

"Blaine?" Porcelain leaned forward, squinting at him. "What are you doing here?"

Blaine stepped forward, coming into the light. "I, uh, I wanted to see you."

"Why didn't you come outside? How long have you been waiting out here?"

"Oh, not long. Just a couple of hours." Porcelain's brows rose at the word "hours". He opened his mouth to say something, but Blaine spoke first. "I needed to see you outside the club. To talk."

Porcelain studied Blaine for a moment, his face expressionless. After a moment he leans back on his heels, his arms folding across his chest as his brown shoulder bag slumps down slightly.

"Well, we're outside. Start talking." He says.

Blaine nods and moves closer; standing less than three feet away from the young man he had dreamed about the night before. "Okay," he breathes out, trying to collect his thoughts. "I wanted to apologize. For running out on you like that. I can't even begin to explain how horrible I feel."

Porcelain lifted a hand, motioning for him to stop. "It's fine. No harm done. Well, expect to my pride, and well, my pay check, but other than that, its fine."

Blaine winced. He knew Porcelain was just making a joke, even if it was a cruel one. Blaine felt bad enough for just abandoning him in the bedroom, but to have money taken from his pay . . . that sucked a whole lot more.

"Yeah, I heard your boss took all the money."

Porcelain shrugged, his hand gripping the shoulder strap to his bag. "No biggie. I mean, it's not like I did anything to deserve the money. Sort of feel bad for you, seeing as you threw three hundred dollars away for nothing. But Sue doesn't give refunds…!" Porcelain sighed heavily, his eyes drifting away from him.

An awkward silence filled the air and Blaine could feel Porcelain slipping away from him. If he didn't say anything now, tell him the real reason for running, he might lose the chance forever.

"Look, the reason I left,"

"You don't have to explain." Porcelain cuts him off. "Look, I know I have a nice ass and I'm easy to talk to, but sometimes you just can't go to that next level."

"What?" Blaine stepped back. "No, that's not it."

"I understand, Blaine. Look, we're friends, right?"

"Of course!" "So you don't need to impress me or try to pay higher than the other people. I've done this long enough to know that one night together – or a three hour conversation in our case – won't lead to more." Blaine's mind began to spin. Porcelain was shutting him down. _Shutting him down!_ _No! no! No! That's not how it was supposed to go!_ While his mind when on a rampage, Blaine stared endlessly as Porcelain began to walk away. "It was nice seeing you, Blaine. I hope you come by the club, but I have to go. Good bye."

"No!" With the speed of, well, someone a lot faster than Blaine, Blaine reached out and took hold of Porcelain's harm. He wasn't holding on tightly, but by the look of his expression, Porcelain was definitely shocked. "Look, I'm sorry for walking out on you, but I had a reason!"

Porcelain, who was staring down at his arm, looks up slowly. "Which is?"

Blaine stepped closer, almost touching him chest-to-chest. "I like you, Porcelain." He admitted. "A lot. And not just because you have a great ass or you're a good listener. You're a great person, Porcelain. You're funny, and sweet, and bitchy, and fun! You're the reason I come to CO's every week. So that's why when I saw you with that guy I just . . . I lost it. I wanted to be with you so badly so I just took out my wallet and paid to be with you.

"So when you chose me over that guy, I was so excited. God . . . I could start skipping! I was gonna have you, finally! But then we got to the room and I . . . I just couldn't. I wanted to, so badly! But not like that. I don't want you pay for you, Porcelain. I want to be able to hold you, and kiss you, and go further with you, without having to be number whatever on your client list."

The air was filled with an eerie silence once Blaine finished speaking. Porcelain stood inches away from him, his mouth half open, his eyes fixated. Blaine couldn't get over how amazing the bluish green looked in the moon light.

"I just wanted you to know that." Blaine said at least. "And if you ever want to, you know, talk? Like outside the club as friends, here's my number." Reaching into his pocket. Blaine handed Porcelain one of his business cards from Metro. "Have a good night, Porcelain."

Walking past, Blaine took a deep breath, not really knowing what to expect. Would Porcelain call him? Is what he told him what Porcelain wanted to hear? Blaine could only hope that he didn't screw this up, otherwise he's back at point one: being bored and alone.

"Mr. Anderson!" Blaine turned around to find Porcelain smiling, placing the business card in his upper left breast pocket of his jacket. Stepping forward, he placed one hand on his hip, supporting him in his diva stand, and the other out for the taking. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Kurt Hummel."

In that instant, Blaine's face broke open into an amazing smile, one that almost hurt, though he didn't give a damn.

"Kurt. I like that. Would you like to go out with me sometime, Kurt?"

Kurt hummed softly, as if to think about it. "You got yourself a date, Mr. Anderson."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Chapter ten! You all know what that means! Its Klaine's first date! And you all know me! Its gonna be a bit awkward, ha! There's a bit of Davana at the end, a cute little scene. I hope you all enjoy! Oh! And my friend and I were playing a game; we were picking out stripper names for the rest of the class (Rachel, Finn, Mercedes, Jesse; ect) And I thought, why not let you all join? I'd like you to all submit as many characters and their stripper names as your can. Who knows, maybe I'll use one! Have fun!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Blaine was nervous, as usual. By this time, he had realized it was the cause of one thing: Kurt. He couldn't explain it, but something about the way he smiles and laughs how he can just look at Blaine and know when something was up. It made Blaine feel . . . well, human. And for a perfectionist wannabe like Blaine, that scared him.<p>

Their first date went well. Blaine took him to dinner and a movie. It was a new action-romance-comedy type flick, though Blaine didn't pay much attention. In all honestly he spent more time watching Kurt than the screen. How his eyes sparkled while giggling, his complexion looking simply amazing in the dimly lit theater. How his lips for the perfect O as he'd suck on his straw, downing his soda.

Afterwards they walked around town, talking about anything and everything. How Kurt's step brother is in love with a somewhat lovable semi-controlling diva. And how Blaine's family, though loving and understand, tend to demand more from him. Usually more than he could give.

Once the date was over, Blaine walked Kurt to his door, like a proper date does, and bid him tonight. Long looks were exchanged and a promise to call, but no kiss. It's not that Blaine didn't want to kiss Kurt, oh that was the exact opposite of what he wanted. No one could comprehend just how much Blaine wanted to push Kurt up against that door and kiss him madly; not even Blaine! Instead he said goodnight and left.

The small voice in his head told him to turn around, but Blaine ignored it. He was never the type to kiss on the first date.

They went out a couple days later they went out on their second date. It consists of dinner, and talking, and laughing, and sheer enjoyment. And once again, when Blaine walked Kurt to his door, he did not kiss him. He could see the disappointment in Kurt's eyes when he offered him a hug instead, but Blaine couldn't help himself. He couldn't just walk away without some sort of touch to help remember the night.

He wanted to do this right, he told himself. The last date he went on was in his sophomore year in college and that end horribly, leading in him stumbling piss drunk into a random sorority and demanding a mani-pedi and bitching over which Manning brother was more attractive. Long story short, he didn't want to mess this up.

A week later, Blaine was called into work and asked to work on the storage department. Hoping to spend some time together, Blaine brought Kurt along. It was a successful day. Kurt, who was fabulous with design, helped him set the room up in no time.

"Have you played _all_ of these?" Kurt asks, looking around to the different set of guitars that stood against the wall.

"Well, not all of them. But I've played around with a few. This one, right here, is my favorite." Reaching over, Blaine lifts the acoustic guitar from its stand and puts the around his shoulder. "Back when I was interning here, we had this guy, Ernie Canadeo, come in. Real business type, always in a suit with a blue tooth placed in his ear. Well, they were trying to get him to sponsor Metro, you know. Well, that hard ass Canadeo kept on refusing, saying it wasn't his type of deal. That was, until I introduced him to our instrument storage room. I tell ya, Kurt, it was amazing. He walked in, took a look around, picked up a guitar, and just _ripped_! He was incredible. You'd think he was in a rock band his entire life! Anyway, to make a long story short, he signed on to sponsor and I got the job."

"That sounds great. Lord that makes me think of the time we actually had real Las Vegas show girls come to CO's. It was beyond trippy, I swear. I still have the picture of us all hanging in my bedroom."

"Sounds like a blast."

"Oh, it was." Kurt, who had been leaning back against one of the shelves, stepped forward. His gaze falling to the floor, shyly. "You know, you should come by sometime this week. We'd love to have you. Brittany had been asking about you."

Blaine, who was busy retuning the guitar, kept his eyes on his work. "Has she now?"

"Yes. She misses her dolphin in her group of sharks."

Blaine looks up momentarily. "What?"

Kurt waves at him, telling him to forget it. "Brittany logic. I'll explain another time. So, will you?"

"Will I what?"

"Come to the club. You know, to see us. Me."

Blaine stopped what he was going, and then started up again. "Oh. Um, sure. When?"

"Any day is fine." Kurt explained. "We have this super awesome performance planned for Saturday."

"Saturday it is then."

Kurt moved from where he stood and leaned across the table, his chin resting on his fits. He looked up at Blaine, smiling sweetly.

"I wish I could tell you what song we were doing, but its totally top secret. Couldn't tell you even if you tied me to a chair and burned me with lit cigarettes."

"Good thing I wasn't going to ask."

"Alright! You forced it out of me! We're doing Kesha's "Blow"" Blaine looked up from the guitar, smiling lopsidedly. "It's gonna be awesome!"

Leaning down, Blaine placed his face inches from Kurt's, laughing softly. "I'm sure it will be. Can't wait to see it."

They stood there in silence, doing nothing more than smiling and looking into each other's eyes. Blaine felt something, the urge to lean in and kiss that beautiful man before him, but he ignored it. Leaning away, he placed the guitar strap around him once before, strumming softly.

"So, um, any request?"

"Got anything good in your pocket?" Kurt asks, standing straight.

"Hmm, I got it!"

Kurt stood there, with arms folded over his chest, doing his best not to laugh like a mad man when Blaine started playing the theme song to Duck Tails.

* * *

><p>David smiled, clicking the save button on his document. It took him a while, but he finally wrote a read-worthy article for the paper. It was his option on everything going on in Egypt and Libya, and what the US is doing that would prevent that from ever happening here.<p>

Closing his lap top, reaching for his phone, which was now beginning to buzz.

"Hello?"

"You know, they say if you shoot a gun through a pillow, it'll muffle out the sound." The voice on the other told him.

"Hey, Santana." He smiled, recognizing the sound voice. "What's up?"

"The sky. Human population. Obesity rate. American's debt; though men still find their way into the club to spend hundreds of dollars on girls like me."

"Huh?"

Santana sighed heavily. "I need a favor."

"Oh really now? And what kind of favor?"

"A big one. Probably as big as your bank account."

David leaned back, his arm crossed over his chest. "Alright, let's hear it."

"A few weeks ago I bailed on having dinner with Britt and her BF, even though I promised I'd be there. Now she's holding it against me. Saying if I don't go to the next one, she'll stop talking to me. Now Brittany may be as dim as a broken headlight, but she always keeps her promises."

"And you need me . . . why?"

"Because!" Santana answered sharply. "Britt and Artie are like, so cute together it's sickening. And I think I might upchuck if I go alone."

"So you want me to go to dinner with you to Brittany's house."

"Yes."

David smiled cockily into the receiver. "So it's a date."

"_Mantenga sus caballos, vaqueros_! This ain't no date!"

"You know by saying 'this _ain't no_ date' you called it a date."

David laughed, catching the sound of her mumbling "Fucking English major" away from the phone.

"Look, it's not a date. Its two friends, going to dinner, with two other friends. That's all."

"So I'm your friend, huh?" He teased.

"_Por el amor de los dioses_! Forget it! I'll ask someone else."

"No, no. I'm just playing with you. I'm in."

"Oh. Awesome! Its tomorrow night at around seven at their apartment. I'll pick you up around six-six thirty."

"Great. See you then. Oh, and Santana? Thanks for inviting me."

"_No hey problema_, Choir Boy."

Hanging up, David placed his phone onto the desk, smiling widely as he fist pumped in the air with joy.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Chapter eleven! Davana go out for their first "date"; Klaine goes on a surprise third date; and Bartie FINALLY shows up! I hope you enjoy it and please continue to send me your Stripper names! I got some cute ones for Rachel and Finn, but what about Jesse, Sam, and Mercedes!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>"Are you going to tell me what's going on?"<p>

Blaine chuckled softly as Kurt asked the same question three times in a row. He had planned something special for their third date and wanted to keep it a secret until the very last second.

"The more you ask, the less I'll tell you." He playfully warned.

Kurt opened his mouth to protest, but snapped it closed, taking Blaine's threat seriously. "Just for fair warning, I'm not one to enjoy surprise." Kurt quickly stated. "My brother tried to surprise me once. Long story short: I nearly ripped my three hundred dollar Alaia jacket in two, because of the suspense."

"How much is the one you have on?"

"Only one fifty. Its Calvin Klein." Kurt said with a smile.

"Sexy." Blaine says with a teasing smile. "Don't fret, for the suspense is over. We're here." Blaine tells him, taking Kurt's hand as he guides him through the gate of the graveyard. There were tons of people, possibility hundreds, but Kurt was too busy trying to keep up with Blaine to count.

"What is this? Some kind of graveyard scary movie night?" Kurt questions as they finally stop. As Blaine unloads his backpack full of goodies, Kurt takes a look around, noticing the humongous movie screen set up several yards away.

"Something like that." Blaine notes, laying the blanket down. Sitting, he pats the spot beside him, welcoming Kurt. "I found out about this back in college. Once a month this group of film students will host a movie night, charging ten bucks a ticket. Its kind of retro and stuff. I went once after they showed 'Wuthering Heights' and I've been hooked ever since."

After wrapping the second blanket around their huddled bodies, Blaine pulled the box of popcorn out from his backpack, popping several pieces into his mouth before passing it onto Kurt. Kurt smile softly, gently picking a piece up and placing it in his mouth.

"Sooo, what film will be playing tonight?"

Kurt looks over his shoulder, finding Blaine smirking; a certain spark going off in his eyes as the lights shut off and the screen lightens. The film begins and the words _Pretty In Pink_ fill the screen.

* * *

><p>"Is there anything I should know before we get there?" David questions as he and Santana walk down the street.<p>

Santana looked at him, an eyebrow cocked. "Like what?"

David shrugged. "I don't know. What to say, what not to say. Stuff like that."

Santana thought about it for a moment. "Its Brittany. There's really nothing you can't wait about with her. Except, you know like, smart things. Oh! And don't mention ducks or hats." David cocked his head, staring at her. "Long story." She explained as she walked up the ramp. Stopping before the door, Santana turned back to look at her none-date. "One more thing: Artie, Britt's boyfriend, he's in a wheelchair. I don't want you to be weird or uncomfortable when you see him."

"I'll be alright." David promised.

Santana stared for a moment, then turned and knocked hard three times. It stayed closed for only a moment, then swung open by a tall bubbly blonde. Her hair was straight down and her make up was light, showing off her pure Dutch features.

"Santana!" Brittany jumped, looking between the two. "Hi, David! Santana told me you'd be come."

David smiled kindly, following Santana into the apartment. It was smaller than his own, yet a fair size. As Brittany practically glides into the kitchen, the other two follow. At the head of the table sat a young man sitting in a wheelchair. He had glasses and biker gloves on, and was wearing a cheesy sweat. Brittany walked over and kisses his cheek, announcing her friends arrival.

"Hello, Santana."

"What's going on, Abrams?" Santana asks, leaning on the balls of her feet.

"I've been worse." He tells her, his eyes moving from hers to David's. "I take it you're David. The . . . Boyfriend?"

Santana laughed then. Whether it was from disgust or embarrassment, David knew not.

"I told you, Artie. David is just Santana's friend who's a boy." Brittany whispers loudly in Artie's ear.

Artie nods, turning back to his guest. "Ah, yes. Sorry about that." He reaches over, shaking David's hand.

"Its no problem." David assured him, taking his seat beside Santana at the table.

"So, David, Brittany told me you work for the news paper?" Artie mentions.

"I'm a journalist for the New York Times, yes." David says. "And you?"

"Artie raises guitars from the dead." Brittany answers.

"I fix broken guitars." Artie clarifies. "You know, try and make them good as new. That kind of thing."

"Is business good?"

"You can say that." Artie smiled, straightening his glasses. "And I don't wanna toot my own horn or anything, but I have been called upon by several big time musicians."

"Some so big, he even had Santana kissing his you-know-what to meet." Brittany whispered. "Well, not actually kissing his you-know-what, cause that totally wouldn't be cool."

David laughed as Santana rolled her eyes. "Okay, that was _one_ time! And it was Eric Clapton! The man is a legend and sexy as hell."

"Sounds like a real trip. Now, if you don't mind me asking, how did you two come to be?" David asks, moving his fork to point across.

Brittany blushed, pushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. "It was about two years ago. It was Ladies Choice and I was performing Britney's "Circus"."

"Ladies Choice?" David broke in.

"Its when the lead singer gets to pull a guy up on stage and dance for him. Basically a free lap dance." Santana explains.

David nods understandingly. "Continue."

"Anyway, I looked out into the crowd and saw him. Something about him caught my eye and I choose him. At first I thought he was really shy and didn't wanna go on stage, so I just danced for him in the crowd. It wasn't until afterwards I realized he couldn't stand." She giggled softly, thinking of her own surprise. "He asked me out then. I usually didn't go out with clients, but he was so sweet, I couldn't say no."

Reaching over, Artie took Brittany's hand in his own, rubbing his thumb along the back. "I guess you can say the rest is history."

Leaning forward, the two shared a sweet kiss. One that warmed David's heart a bit and left Santana in the dust; her eyes rolling for the second time that night.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Yay, I'm back! Sorry for the long wait (FF.N isn't being my friend lately...) Annnnnnyway, I hate to say this, but now that I'm caught up with my LJ site, posting will be more and more spaced out. I promise, the longest you will have to wait for a chapter is a week, and thats it! I hope enjoy this chapter. I'm sure most of you will (it's all you've been talking about in the comments). Oh! And thank you for the Stripper names; they're so cute! Enjoy!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Kurt walked with his hands in his pockets, his moves having a certain skip to them. He was true to his words when he said he didn't like surprises, but he couldn't help but to love Blaine's. Pretty In Pink, without doubt, was one of his top-ten of all-time favorite movies. Afterwards, as they walked around town and caught dinner, they spoke nothing more than movies. Eighties, mostly. Stating Girls Just Wanna Have Fun was the hit dance flick, while they fought between Carmen, Annie, Purple Rain, Yentl, Little Shop Of Horror, and the Little Mermaid as the hit musical.<p>

"They just don't make movies like those anymore." Blaine sighed.

"No, they really don't. Now, it's all action, and gore, and sex, and horrible remakes."

"Most remakes aren't that bad. It really depends on who they cast, and if they stick to the plot the original had."

"I _swear_ if they ever remake Pretty In Pink; or slap me if I jinks this, When Harry Met Sally, I will sure die of torture, along with the originals."

Blaine laughed at Kurt's melodramatic comment. "Well, those are both pretty amazing movies; one's that are so good that you can't beat it. But I can't promise that someone wouldn't try to redo and bring back to life." Kurt groaned, hating the truth. "Think of it this way: remaking a movie is like covering a song. They only do it, because they love it so much."

"Some songs shouldn't be covered." Kurt muttered, turning to face Blaine as they stopped in front of the apartment complex. Blaine thought back to when Kurt told him how he lived with his step brother and his girlfriend. A musical apartment, Kurt has stated. They were all in the same Glee club back in high school and have been singing ever since. Blaine envied him. He had a great family, but he was the only one with a musical strain in his DNA. "This is me."

"I had a lot of fun, Kurt." Blaine says, flashing his thousand watt smile.

Kurt did the same, brushing a stray hair from his face. "As did I, Blaine. I gotta say, as far as surprises go, that was definitely one of the best I've ever had."

Blaine stepped forward, brushing said hair away again. "Glad you liked it."

"I loved it." Kurt replies, his voice husky.

They were standing less than a foot from one another, Blaine's hand grazing slowly against Kurt's cheek. Their eyes, rich brown and a sea greenish blue never left sight, expect for when Blaine's broke to look down, catching the sight of Kurt's lips. Kurt leaned in, and then rolled his lips back as Blaine cleared his throat, stepping away.

"I, um . . . I'll call you. Good night, Kurt." Blaine says before turning to walk away.

"Night." Kurt says breathlessly, staring in shock as he's left out in the night.

Blaine mentally whips himself with each step he takes. It had been their third date and he and Kurt had yet to share a kiss. Blaine, of course, wanted to be a gentlemen; though the lower portion of his body continued to demand other things.

_I wanted to treat Kurt differently! _He tells himself. _With respect and show how much he matters; that I don't just want sex from him! Ooh, but it's just a kiss!_ His mind retaliates. _One soft . . . Loving kiss. His lips probably fit perfect on yours! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!_ He commanded. _Yes! No! Yes! No! _

"Oh screw it!" He said aloud. Turning back, he hurried over, catching Kurt as he unlocked the door to the complex. "Kurt!" Kurt turned towards him, his eyes wide with shock. "I forgot something."

"Oh." Kurt's face fell. "And what would that be?"

"This." Blaine stated, leaping forward, covering the taller boys lips with his own.

It was easy to see Kurt was shocked; his eyes open and lips still. Sighing into the kiss, he leaned forward, kissing Blaine back. It was everything Blaine expected. Soft and sweet, practically mind numbing with goodness.

They were smiling as Blaine pulled back, both breathing heavily and laughing slowly.

"I've wanted to do that for so long." Blaine expresses.

Kurt laughes, smiling brightly. "Better late than never."

* * *

><p>"I gotta admit, I had a <em>really<em> good time!" David announced as they walked down the street. Taxi cabs and other cars went by one by one, even in the latest of nights.

Santana thought of home, where everything was dead silent after twelve. It amazed her how far she had come from that small rinky-dink town in Ohio.

"Artie is totally cool and the things Brittany says! She's a riot!"

Santana smirked. It wasn't the first time someone was entertained by the thoughts of Brittany; though most used it as an excuse to be cruel. She knew Brittany wasn't the smartest person, but that didn't give them the right to make fun of her for it. David wasn't like that. He laughed at the things she said, but in a joyful, enjoyable way; instead of the usual what-an-idiot way.

Even when she talked about how she _was_ Britney Spears and how, after iRobot, she was sure Artie was one.

"They make a really cute couple." David gushed.

She scoffed, laughing somewhat bitterly. "Cute. Sure. Cute, and sweet, and simply perfect."

"Umm, okay. What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." Santana looked away, not allowing him to see her eyes.

"Come on," he pressed. "Tell me."

"Really, its nothing. I just . . . their relationship gets a little old, ya know?"

"Old?" David mimicked.

"I mean, he loves her. She loves him. They're great together and they make one another so happy."

"Yeah? That's sort of the point of a relationship, Santana."

"No shit, David. But they're just so . . . _perfect_!"

"Perfect, huh?"

"They are! He knows exactly how to make her smile whenever she's having a bad day. She knows his favorite foods and songs to sing to him. If she's away from him for more than a day, she gets so depressed and has to call him every hour, just to hear his voice. Its sickening."

"Because they're in love?" David accuses.

"Because it doesn't make sense!" Santana retaliates. "We're strippers, David. Ones that dance, and have sex for money. We're not meant to live these stupid fairy-tale lives; where some guy will come along and rescuer us. And yet, Brittany found her Prince Charming. He's the biggest geek on four wheels, and she couldn't be happier. Its not supposed to be that way. She gave up so much to be with him. She's a fool! And yet, they're relationship is amazing. I swear, sometimes I'll see them together and all I wanna do is yack-"

The words stopped before Santana could finish. She stood there, arms out awkwardly, eyes open wide, lips crushed against David's, who held her face firmly in his hands. It was a strong kiss, one that certainly caught Santana off guard, but full of electricity. David's eyes were dark as he backed away, his mouth hanging half open as he panted to breathe.

"You say it doesn't make sense. That its not supposed to be like that for you guys. What I saw tonight with Brittany and Artie, was real. And what I see happening to Kurt and Blaine, that's real too. It can be real for you too; you just have to let it happen. Stop fighting it, Santana . . . and let yourself fall. Maybe you're Prince Charming will be there to catch you."

With that said, David, with his hands in his pockets, continued on down the street, leaving a stunned Santana alone; her fingertips softly grazing her now moist lips.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Okay, another single chapter. Santana sings in it and Puck/Rachel/Will are shown. Also some Bartie. I'm starting to think about replacing Klaine as the main couple with Davana, based on the comments and messages I've been getting on the subject. I do infact post this story on two LJ comms (one as a Klaine fic, and one as a Davana), but some people don't seem to believe its meant to be a Klaine and they're just a "side pairing". I'm not sure if I will do this; I still have to think about it. Enjoy this until next time.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>"Seriously, Kurt? A <em>Karaoke bar!<em>" Santana leaned back in her seat, scoffing at the awkwardly lit sign hanging above the stage. "Leave it to Hummel to take us to a place you sing at." She adds, rolling her eyes.

After giving Sue the inspirational idea to hire one-night headliners, Kurt, Santana, and Brittany were all given another night off; one of which they decided to spend going out with their significant others. Kurt decided to head down to the new hipster club, New Directions, where they both worked.

Word has it, the new owner hoped to get more attention by adding a karaoke night to their week line-up (and from the turn out, it seemed to be working).

"Don't act like you're not intrigued, Santana." Kurt tossed, smiling smugly at his choice of hangout.

"I like it!" Blaine expressed, smiling at his surroundings.

"You would." Santana mumbled. "I need a drink!" She announces, standing from her seat. "Anyone else?" The people around her voiced their options and drink orders. "I'm not buying for everyone! _Lo que usted esta loco!_" Santana muttered as she walked away from the table.

"Wait up!" David called, getting up from his seat. "I'll come with you."

Walking to the bar, Santana leaned over, watching the bartender, whose back was to them as he worked on a drink.

"How can I help you guys?" He asks, looking over his shoulder swiftly.

"Yeah, hey. Three Budweiser's. One being diet." Santana looked to him, her head cocked. "Its for Blaine." He whispered. "What do you want?"

"Jagerbomb." Santana called over the bar.

The bartender whistled, chucking heavily. "Pretty big drink for a girl."

"Did I ask you?" Santana sassed.

"Hey! Keep your skirt on, girlie." He said, spinning around with the drinks. "Seventeen bucks."

"Why you. . . ." The words died as Santana recognized the face. So sharp and cocky. And the Mohawk! How could she not realize? "Puckerman!"

The bartender leaned forward, squinting his eyes. "Lita?" He asked. Stepping back, he laughed loud and surprised. "Well, well, well. Look what the stripper dragged out. What are you doing here?" He says, coming around the bar to hug her.

David stood aside, his eyes wide as he watched the two embrace; his heart breaking ever so slightly at the sight of Santana's smile from seeing her old friend.

"Day off. So, this your new gig?"

"Yeah. Bartending and strumming some strings, ya know?"

"How you liken it?"

"Its good. Schue pays better than Sue did. Less trouble, ya know? I hated being a bouncer. Guitarist and singer is so much better."

"The new guy they hired is such a prick. Always pinching the girls and messin with Kurt. Dick."

"Can't be perfect." Puck shrugged. Looking over her shoulder, Puck nods towards David, who was continuing to stand unnoticed. "Sup, man."

"Oh! David, this is Puck. He used to bounce for CO's."

"What's up." David says, reaching forward to shake Puck's hand.

"So this your new man, Tana?"

"Huh?"

"What?"

Their words stumbled upon one another, both blushing, and mumbling, and giggling.

"It's, uh, its not like that." Santana states.

"Its complicated." David offers.

Puck nods, as if he understands.

"The rush has come in, Noah. You should get back to work." A high pitched voice said, walking out from the back.

"And you would be?" Santana questions.

"Rachel Berry. I'm the headliner here at New Directions. Pleasure." Rachel holds her hand out to hand Santana, though Santana doesn't do the same.

Instead, David took it, smiling kindly. "So, you guys perform on stage?"

"Precisely. We're like a dinner and a show type of business. People can come to eat, drink, and relax, all while listening to the best singers hit top forty, or as Will likes it, Journey and oldies songs. Although, I myself have a soft spot for Broadway tunes and the amazing Ms. Barbra Streisand."

"Sounds pretty cool." David announces. "Kind of like a softened down part of your job, babe." He teased, hip bumping Santana.

Rachel looked Santana up and down, humming rudely. "I can only imagine what kind of business you're in."

"Excuse me?" Santana stepped back.

"No mean to offend, you just look like the type of person who would be out and about, not stuck at a local showbar."

"Well, I guess you're right. Seeing as I am in a business. The business of pleasure."

"As am I. Pleasure of the ears, though. You see, unlike most rinky-dink, armature type places, we here at New Directions have class."

Puck, who was back at the bar washing out classes, let out a long "Oooooh." while David's eyes fixacted between the two females.

"Oh really now?" Santana asks, her arms across over her chest.

"Yes. You see here, we have something called "talent". Unlike some people, who might have the drive and maybe the voice, we stick to it. We're not just some Coyote Ugly type of place. We're the real deal."

"Coyote Ugly, huh? Mmm alright then."

The four looked about as the light went out, and a voice from the mic came on. Will Schuester, the owner of New Directions, was standing on the stage, smiling slightly.

"Hello and welcome to New Directions karaoke night! This is a new tradition of ours and I hope it goes well. Now, are there any volunteers?"

The crowd was silent. Kurt, who swore he'd go up, held his ground, not wanting to be the very first to go.

"Anybody? Oh, come on people! Don't make me start picking people!"

"Me!" A voice called from the back. It belonged to Santana. "I'll go first."

"Alright! Well, come on down!"

"Santana," David asks, his eyes wide.

Turning back, Santana downed her bomb in three seconds, slapping her chest as it went down. "I'll be back." She told him before heading for the stage.

"Hey there. And your name?"

"Santana."

"Well, Santana, its easy. Pick a song, the words will come on screen. Just sing a long as they words change colors."

"Wow. Thanks for clearing that up for me." She says sarcastically before he heads off stage. Flipping through the choices, Santana smirked at one title, clicking it.

The crowd was quiet as they waited in anticipation for the song to begin.

"_Under a lovers' sky, gonna be with you. And no one's gonna be around."_

Kurt and Blaine looked to one another, while Brittany straightened in her seat, clapping excitingly.

"_If you think that you won't fall, well just wait until, til the sun goes down." _

"Isn't this the theme song to Coyote Ugly?" Blaine asked Kurt.

"Its one of Tana's favorites." Brittany informs him.

Turning back to the stage, Blaine watched as Santana, who was usually known simply for her body (and what she can do with it), showed off her other talent.

"_You can try to resist, try to hide from my kiss. But you know, but you know that you can't fight the moonlight. Deep in the dark, you'll surrender your heart. But you know, but you know that you can't fight the moonlight. No, you can't fight it. It's gonna get to your heart." _Pulling the mic off the stand, Santana used all the knowledge of the film and danced around the stage, doing almost the exact routine used. She knew the lyrics by heart, so there was no need for the screen, so the stage was hers.

Although pinned as an alto growing up, the crowed cheered as whistled as she rocked the high tone, sending vibes all the way to the back of the bar where David remained, staring in amazement.

"Damn! Who knew she could sing like that!" Blaine expressed eagerly.

"She is indeed one of the rarest of jems." Kurt states; Brittany, who had stood and began to dance, nods in agreement.

"_But you know, but you know that you can't fight the moonlight. No, you can't fight it. It's gonna get to your heart."_ The crowd went wild as the last note was sung. Smiling widely, Santana placed the mic back on the stand and hopped off stage, winking as she passed a very visually-shocked Rachel, as she made her way back to David.

"That . . . that was amazing." He stutters, laughing in his state of surprise.

Reaching forward, Santana took his bottle from his hands, bringing it to her mouth to sip. "You think that's good, you should see me do Madonna." She tells him with a smirk.

"Alright, alright!" Will calls from the stage. "That was mightily impressive. So, who's next?"


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Short little chapter. I hope you enjoy it. Basically a little make-outness between the couples. I'm gonna post 15 as well, since this one is so short. Have fun and thank you for commenting!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Santana smirked widely as David moaned in her ear; telling her she was doing a fantastic job. After hanging out and drinking with the rest of the guys, David insisted on walking her back to the apartment. They weren't outside the apartment for more than three seconds before her hands were all over him, her lips connecting to the sweet spot of his neck.<p>

He effortlessly tried to stop her; even going so far as to bring up a pervious conversation hoping she'd back off and listen. It didn't work very well.

"Are you even . . . even listening to what I'm s-saying?" David murmured as Santana's lips continued to travel down his neck.

"Hmm." She hummed in response. "Every word." Removing her lips, Santana brought hand up, digger her finger-nails into the back of David's neck, giggling softly as a groan lowly escaped from his mouth. "'What are you? A lover? A friend? A girlfriend?'" She says, repeating his words.

"Well?"

"What do you want me to be?"

"You know what I want. I want you."

Santana purred. "I want you too. Especially in my bed."

David groaned, stepping back. "That's not what I meant."

"David, David, David. We have fun, don't we?"

"Yeah?"

"So why change anything? Everything is right here in front of us; the want, the passion, what more could we need?"

"I don't know, Santana. . . . Haven't you just ever wanted more?"

"What more could there be?" Santana stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I take what I want and what I deserve, and that's that."

"You deserve more," he whispered.

"Enough talk." Santana established, pushing away from him to open the door. "Its late. Are you coming to bed or not?"

David knew this conversation wasn't over; knew they had a lot more to talk about. But Santana had already wanted into the apartment, and then she was looking over her shoulder, batting her dark eyes, which at the moment were full of need and lust. And as much as he didn't like what she was doing it him, David reluctantly followed.

* * *

><p>There was pushing and shoving; clothes falling to the floor. Neck biting and groin grabbing. They were moaning and begging and doing everything in their power to get closer. When they finally reached the bedroom, Kurt was lying half naked on his back in the middle of Blaine's bed; Blaine was hovering above him, staring down at the hand carved angel below him.<p>

"So beautiful." He murmurs.

"Please," Kurt reaches up, holding to pull Blaine down, but Blaine doesn't allow him.

Taking his hand in his own, Blaine intertwines their fingers.

"Kurt I . . . I don't wanna rush anything."

"Rush?" Kurt echo's.

"I want it . . . I want it to be perfect. Slow, and awesome, and perfect. And seeing you like this makes it _really_ hard to keep that in mind."

Kurt laughed below him, loving how sweet and innocent Blaine could be sometimes. Reaching up, Kurt wrapped his arm around Blaine's neck.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"No! Kurt . . . Kurt trust me. It's not that I don't _want_ to!"

"I know," Kurt cuts him off. "We can wait."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I mean, just because we're not gonna have sex doesn't mean we can't still have fun."

"I like fun." Blaine says, wiggling his brows.

"Good, now come here!"

"Yes, sir." Blaine smiles, bringing his lips down to Kurt's.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Sorry for the late post! I had some technical problems and wasn't able to update. All better now. I hope you enjoy it. I believe all shippers will be happy, and you finally get to see Finchel.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>The sky was near dusk as Santana and David walked down the city streets, arm in arm. Along with Kurt and Blaine, the two had gone to see the late night showing of Phantom Of The Opera. Santana, who though lived in the city for sometime, had never a Broadway show before, and that didn't sit well with the boys.<p>

She enjoyed it, surprising herself. She found it loving and lustful; the mind-twisting love-triangle between Erik, Christine, and Raoul captivating. The storyline itself something even she could relate to. Being pushed into the shadows; being such a bubble headed diva; having a talent most people don't see, for they are too concerned with your looks.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." David says, jumping the curb.

"I did. It was a lot better than Blaine made it out to me. Though the movie looks way better. Especially with Gerald Butler as the Phantom. Wow! That man is fine."

"Most musicals-turned-movies tend to be better as movies. Guess since there's more time to spread out and more rehearsal time. Still! There's nothing like a live show. That's pure talent."

"Come on, Choir Boy, what's your favorite musical?" Santana smiles, poking David in the ribs.

"Oh, that's easy. Rent."

"Rent? Really?"

"Yeah! I mean, the plot is simple, the songs are fun, and the characters are memorable."

"Lemme guess: you have a crush on Mimi?"

David smiled shyly, looking to the sky. "You can say that. She's a fabulous character and her attitude towards life is amazing. Though Angel is truly my favorite."

"I like Roger."

"He's alright. A runner, who wants to change the world. He's a fantastic asset to the story, yet as a person, hmm not so much." Santana glared at him, wonderingly. "He's too scared to get hurt again. After losing April, it was like he lost everything. So when Angel died, he ran."

"He came back in the end." Santana pointed out.

David laughed, pulling her closer. "That he did. Good way to redeem himself; especially singing that song to her. That's one way to win someone back. But really, all in all, it has a fantastic message."

"No day, but today." Santana muttered, turning to face him. "Well, maybe we can watch it together sometime."

"I'd like that."

Santana smiled, shaking her shoulder flirtatiously. "It's a date then."

David continued to smile, though his eyes fell to the ground. "Is that what this was? A date?"

Santana sighed, stepping closer. She heard this time and time again from David, and today was no different. "David,"

"I just want an answer, Santana. What am I to you?"

"What do you think you are, David?"

"I don't know! I know we're friends, but at the same time, I feel like we're so much more than that."

"We are friends, David. Very good friends."

"With benefits, I know. But I don't want just benefits. I want the whole package; why can't I have that?"

"You know why!"

"Remind me!"

Santana breathed out, stepping away from him. "I'm not like Kurt or Brittany, David. I won't give up part of my job, just because I'm seeing someone. This is my life and having you and or anyone else in it, isn't going to change that."

"I'm not asking you to give up something, Santana. In that club, you can be anything you want, be with anyone who will pay the price; all I'm asking is outside . . . be mine. At least for now."

"And afterwards?"

"Afterwards is for another day. No day, but today, remember?"

Santana smiled and hated herself for it. She had less than twenty minutes to change and head down to CO's, but all she wanted to do was take David upstairs for one of the best make-out sessions they've ever had.

Stepping forward, Santana wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him sweetly. "You are really not fair sometimes." She murmured, pulling away slightly.

David chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist, keeping her close. "Yeah well, anything that works." He says, leaning down for another kiss.

* * *

><p>"I swear, Phantom of the Opera is one of <em>the best<em> musicals of all time!"

Blaine chuckled as he and Kurt walked down the city street; Kurt spurting verbal diarrhea about all the different musicals that were beyond amazingly, and Blaine didn't mind one bit.

"I will say, it fits into the category, though there's also West Side Story, Evita,"

"Funny Girl," Kurt imputes.

"Funny Girl, The Music Man."

"Gypsy!"

"Singin' In The Rain is also very enjoyable."

"Don't forget about the fantastic leading ladies. Barbra, Madonna, Sarah Brightman."

"Liza! Can not forget her."

Blaine laughed, pulling his boyfriend closer. His boyfriend. Kurt was his boyfriend. Something about those words put together in a sentence made him feel as if he were on the top of the world. They've only been together for a couple weeks, yet it felt like a year or so. He knew so much and told the same amount.

With Kurt, he didn't have to be this wealthy guy, who happened to like men, who had to be perfect with everything he does. He was just Blaine. A normal guy with a pretty cool job and a boyfriend who adores him.

Kurt's voice brought him back to reality, pulling him from his thoughts. "What?"

"Its still early; coming up?"

Blaine smiled, his teeth bright from the sunlight. "You bet!"

Kurt smirked, holding the door open to the apartment for Blaine to walk through.

It wasn't the first time Blaine had been to the apartment; on the contrary, he had spent many evenings there (most of them going into the night to morning.) So he knew it pretty well. Two bedroom apartment. First door on the left is the closet, first door on the right the bathroom. Then kitchen and living room. Far left door is Kurt's bedroom. Far right bedroom belongs to his brother and his girlfriend. It was no bigger than Blaine's, but much more homey.

Blaine once pondered if it had to do with having a female in the apartment or just Kurt himself.

"Hey guys!" Kurt says as they enter.

Finn was stretched out on the couch, his eyes set on the TV, watching a football game.

"Hey," He replies.

"Monday night football again, Finn?" Kurt says, hanging his jacket up.

"Its college night," Finn smiles.

"I will never understand the concept of that sport." Rachel says, immerging from their bedroom. "If you ask me its simply barbaric. A bunch of heavily armored men chasing after a diamond shaped ball."

"I see its not only music and diva's you two have in common." Blaine comments, winking at Kurt. "Damn, I better get going."

"I kinda hoped you say." Kurt says coyly. "You could come by CO's, watch the show."

"I would, babe, but I have to get my paper work done before Wednesday, and if I don't that means no Friday fun night for us. You don't wanna miss out on that do you?" Blaine pouts, giving Kurt his signature puppy-dog look.

Kurt sighs defeated. "No, I guess not."

"Well then, I will see you later." Leaning over, he kisses Kurt softly, licking his lips afterwards. "Hmm cherries."

"Your favorite chap stick."

"I love it even more now. Have fun tonight, okay? I'll call you later. Bye guys."

Rachel and Finn both said their goodbyes before Blaine slipped out the door and headed back to his office. He wasn't very fond of the paper work of his job, but it always paid off in the end. Checking his watch, Blaine realized it was a few minutes before Kurt would be going on. Pulling out his cell phone, he sent him a good luck text, kissing it before pressing send.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". A little more info on Blaine's family and a bit of jealous!David. Ennnjoy!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>"Carter scored <em>another<em> touchdown, Blaine. I swear, he's incredible!" Mrs. Anderson gushed over the phone.

Blaine, who was already late for his coffee date with Kurt, checked his watch quickly, hopping over the curb as he passed his fellow city folk.

"That's great mom I'll call and congratulate him later tonight."

"Oh, Blaine, you must come down for a visit. You simply _must_!"

"I'll try mom, but thinks are kind of crazy right now; with work and everything. But I promise to stop by next chance I get."

"You always did put music before everything, Blaine." His mother commented, her tone unpleasing.

Blaine stared at the phone in disgust, thankful his mother couldn't see it. "Well, important things are important." He comments.

"And family isn't important?" She questioned harshly.

"Of course it is, mom. That's not what I meant. Look, I'll come by as soon as it's possible. Alright?"

"Alright dear."

Blaine smiled, happy to hear his mother somewhat dropping the subject. "And hey! Maybe I'll even bring Kurt? I'm sure you'd-"

"Oh! You're father is home. I'll talk to you soon, Blaine dear. Lots of love!"

Blaine pulled the phone from his ear, gazes at it with disbelief as his mother hung up on him. Shaking his head, he tossed it into his jacket pocket and hurried down the five blocks to where Kurt was sitting alone, looking down at his coffee as he stirred it slowly with his spoon.

"Hey! Sorry I'm late." Blaine says, kissing Kurt softly on the lips before taking his seat across from him.

"Its fine. Busy with work?"

Blaine rolled his eyes, slipping his jacket off. "I wish that were the case." He mutters, lifting his coffee to his lips. Kurt cocked his head, wondering. "Mother dear called." He explains. Kurt nods understandingly. "Seems Carter is becoming quite the sports star back home." He tells, taking a sip.

"I see." Kurt murmurs. "And Carter is your younger brother, correct?" Blaine nods.

"While I was only into the sports, Carter was always the one playing them. Won my dad's love that way." Blaine muttered, his eyes going to the window.

Reaching forward, Kurt took his boyfriends hand. Blaine looked to him, his brown eyes soft. "Your father loves you."

Blaine smiles small, his heart breaking slightly. "Of course. But its nothing like Carter. I never had the type of relationship with him like you have with your father."

"That's because for so long, we were all we had. And we had some rough times. There would be times he would take Finn to a sports game or out to dinner instead of me, and it hurt. But that didn't mean he liked him more or cared about him more than he did me. They just had things in common that we didn't. And as time went on, I came to realize that's all it was."

"Your father still sounds like a great guy."

"One of the best I know." Kurt tells him, sipping his coffee. "Maybe one day you could meet him."

Blaine smiled his hundred-watt smile, cocking his head boyishly. "I've love too. I mean, I want you to meet mine too. You and my sister would totally get along."

"But of course," Kurt leaned his, lowering his voice the way he does whenever he switches to "sexy mod". "I've always had a way with woman."

"Yeah? Well, I like your way with men more." Blaine states, moving in.

"Me too." Kurt expressed, pressing his lips softly against Blaine's.

They were in public and he was sure people were staring, but Blaine didn't care. He was with Kurt, and he was happy, and that's all that mattered.

* * *

><p>Santana hummed happily, tossing her iPod into her jacket pocket before knocking three times on the door. Smiling her signature smile, she pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head as David opened the door.<p>

"Hey good looking."

"What are you doing here?" David asked tiredly.

"Can't a girl come visit her man? Ya gonna let me in or am I just gonna stand here all day?" David rolled his lips, stepping back to allow her access. Walking in, Santana peeled off her jacket, lying it on the back of the couch. "Sooo Britt invited me out for an all girls lunch, but I decided to spend my last day off with you."

"Aren't you sweet." David says dryly, leaning back against the counter.

"I know, right? Sooo, what do you wanna do?"

"At the moment, sleep." David informs her.

Santana pouts, walking over to him. "There's _nothing_ else you have in mind?"

"No." He answered honestly. "Not really."

Santana stepped back, slightly offended. Cocking her head, she stared at him for a moment. "There's something bothering you."

"What? No there's not."

"Yes, there is. I can totally see it in your eyes. Speak."

"Look, forget about it, alright."

"Ooh no. You're gonna tell me. I choose you, and I'm not gonna let you ruin my last day off. Now speak!"

David sighed, moving away from the counter. "Wes called me earlier today."

"And?"

"He called me to tell me all about the wild night he had a couple days ago. One he spent with Ms. Lolita from Club Cheeri-Ohs!"

"Oh." Santana replied.

"Oh? That's it. All you can say is "oh"?" David shook his head, looking away from her.

"I don't see what the big deal is. I told you I wouldn't stop. You said you were okay with it."

"But with Wes!" He turned to her, his eyes blazing. "Tom, Dick, and Harry, I can deal with, but with one of my best friends?"

"He paid for me!" She explained. "What did you want me to do? Turn him down!"

"Yes!"

"I can't do that! Not when someone is willing to pay so high! And what do you care? It's just a job, David. It's not like I kissed him or anything. He's just a client."

"One that likes you! Come on, Santana, you've spent enough time with him to know that he has feelings for you."

"Lots of clients have feelings for me." Santana expresses, doing her bitch pose. "You should know, you were one of them." David looks to her, his eyes mixing with sadness and anger. "But I chose you."

"Look, I'm sorry, but this hurts me. If it was some random guy, that's one thing. This is one of my close friends. One who likes you, and has no problem bragging about it to me."

"Then tell him, David. Tell him that we're dating and he won't pay for me anymore. Because I honestly have no idea what you want from me. I'm not gonna stop or say no to a client, because you know the guy. We already talked about this, and I'd rather not talk about it again."

"I just don't know how to deal with that. I look at you and my mind goes straight to you two . . . and I can't take that."

"What do you want, David? Tell me!"

"I just . . . I wanna be your number one."

Santana stepped forward, her hand pressing softly against his cheek. "You are, David. I wouldn't be here if you weren't." Santana gazed at him for a moment, and then her eyes opened wide; shining bright. "Omigod. Omigod, I just had the best idea!"

"What?"

"It's a surprise! I have to go!" Leaning up, Santana presses her lips against his, kissing him hard. "I'll call you later, okay? Bye!"

Grabbing her jacket, Santana hurried out the door, leaving a dazed and confused David behind.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". So yeah, I think everyone will be happy with chapter chapter. You Klainers finally get what you have been begging for and Davana end... Well, you'll see. Enjoy!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>David pushed and shoved, gliding his way through the packed out crowed. Still in his suit, having come straight from the office, he unbuttoned his jacket, finally spotting his friends.<p>

"Hey! What's the big emergency?"

"Emergency?" Wes mimicked, sipping back on his gin and tonic.

"Blaine text me, saying 'get to CO's - big emergency'."

Both men turned towards their friend, who was leaning back against the booth, sucking down his Miller Lite.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He answered simple.

Sliding down, Wes patted the seat between he and Blaine, setting his drink on the table. "Well, since you're here, take a seat. The girls are on any second."

"No thanks." David said curtly.

"David," Blaine said smoothly.

"Maybe another time. See you fella's later."

Blaine stood, calling his friends name. David stopped in his tracks, turning. "Stay." He ordered. "Trust me, you're gonna wanna see this."

David stared at his friend, who even on the rarest occasions, wouldn't raise his voice. Sighing heavily, David took his seat. Reaching forward, Wes handed him the spare beer, clacking his glass against it, cheering.

The crowed cheered and whistled as the lights went off, waiting for something to happened.

"Is everybody ready!" A voice in the darkness cried out. David, recognizing it to be Kurt's, turned to Blaine, his head cocked slightly. "Well you should be. Allow me to introduce the belle of the ball, the hottest chick around, the leader for Ladies' Choice, Miiiiiiiiiiss Looooolita!"

Cupping his ears, David leaned forward, keeping his eyes on the stage as it erupted it light, and the Diamond Three took their places. They were in costume, though tonight was different. Kurt, who took left center, came rocking out with black board shorts and a matching vest, while Brittany, who took right center, walked out in a leopard skirt, bra, and boots number. While Santana, the lady of the evening, strutted her stuff in a blue halter top, black ruffled short-shorts, and from David could see, knee-high stocking, boots, and fingerless gloves; all while her hair was down and wavy and crazy.

"_What's the time? Well, it's gotta be close to midnight. My bodies talking mean, 'it says time for danger'. It says 'I wanna commit a crime. Wanna be the cause of a fight. I wanna put on the tight skirt and flirt, with a stranger!'_"

David looked to his friends, his expression mixed with wonder and shock. "What is going on!"

"It's Ladies' Choice man!" Wes shouted over the music, cat calling as Santana danced closely with her partners.

Blaine leaned behind Wes, whispering as loudly as possible. "Let's just say Kurt, Britt, and Santana have something up their sleeves for the night."

David stared, wondering, as the turned back towards the stage, watching as Santana was lowered down out into the crowed.

"_Lets go, ouuuuuuuut tonight. I have to go, ouuuuut tonight. You wanna play? Lets run away. We won't be back before it's New Years Day! Take me ouuuuuuuuuuut, tonight."_ Santana jumped onto one of the tables, shimming her hips before kicking the glass off, winking as she took the money from a friendly customer. "_Meow_. _Ha!_"

Her head turned from side to side, and her eyes narrowed as she found her targets. Jumping down, she made a B-line for the table

"_When I get a wink from the doorman, do you how lucky you'll be? That you're on the line, with the feline, on Avenue Beeeeeeeee!_"

David leaned back, staring up at the dark haired beauty before him. Before he could say a word, Santana took him by the tie, pulling him to his feet and dragged him with her. Whistles and cat calls went around, strangers patting him on the back as she pulled him onto the stage.

Kurt and Brittany, appearing with a chair, smiled as Santana pushed David into it, and helped her strap him in; wrapping colorful belts and feathery boas around him.

Santana turned back to the crowed, walking down the large steps to the very edge of the stage.

"_So lets find a bar. So dark we forget who are. Where all the scars and the never's and maybeeeees DIIIIIIIIIIE! Lets go! Ouuuuuut tonight!"_ Turning on her heel, Santana made her way back to David, crawling seductively up the stairs, twirling her hair around and kneeling in front of him. "_Have to gooooooo na-na-na-Oooooh tonight. Oh! Ah ah ah owe! You're sweet wanna, hit the street? Wanna wail at the moon like a cat in heat? Just take me, ouuuuuut tonight!_"

Coming to her feet, Santana straddled him, pulling him close, her eye lashes fluttering. "_Please take me, ouuuuuut tonight_." Shimming slowly, she smirked as his eyes opened wide, his mouth dropping open. "_Don't forsake me - ouuuuuut tonight!_" Taking his hands, she placed them on her hips, spinning her hair around. "_I'll letcha make me - ouuuuuut tonight!_" Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Santana leaned in close, teasing him."_Tonight! Tonight! Tonight!"_

The crowed lit up like wild fire as the curtain dropped, ending the performance. Santana and David stayed like that for a moment, both panting with lack of air.

"Santana,"

"Told you; you're my number one." Santana says, bringing her lips down to his for a hot, meaningful kiss.

* * *

><p>Blaine laughed gleefully as he skipped through Kurt's box of old records. Kurt was sitting on the floor, staring into the fireplace. After leaving CO's, the rain storm (which first started out as a light drizzle) began to pick up and turned into an all out thunder and lightening storm.<p>

Not wanting to get stuck waiting for a taxi, the two hurried out early and made it back to Kurt's apartment just in time.

"I can't believe that actually worked!" Blaine commented.

It wasn't long before they left when they saw the renewal renewed lovebirds making their own getaway for the night; their hands linked together as if suck with glue.

"Well of course it did." Kurt says, sipping back his glass of wine. "You're dealing with a professional here, Blaine. Why if they had an award for match making, I'd be right behind, Dolly Gallagher and the old woman from Fiddler On The Roof."

Blaine smiled, finding the perfect record, and placed it onto the player. After a moment, the slow song began.

"Well, may I have this dance, Mr. Matchmaker?" He asked Kurt, holding hand down.

Kurt smiled, taking the older man's hand in his own. "You certainly may."

Pulling Kurt to his feet, Blaine brought it close. It was a rather odd dance, the shorter man being the lead, but to them it didn't make much of a difference. Kurt hummed softly, resting his head on Blaine's shoulder, as Blaine sang along with the Ben E. King song.

The scene was almost serene, until the thunder and lightening struck; causing the men to jump; Kurt pulling Blaine any closer, if possible.

"Shhh, it's alright. I got you." Blaine chuckled softly, his hand running down Kurt's back, soothing him. Kurt looked up, his sea colored eyes big as they gazed into Blaine's soft browns. "I got you." Blaine whispered again, moving inch by inch until finally, their lips touched.

It started out soft. A loving gesture used for comfort; to let the other know he's there for him, and he's safe. But it soon transformed into something else. One kiss became two, and then two became three, and so on and so on. They grew more hungry, yet not an ounce less meaningful.

Somehow, in the mist of their kissing and removal of clothing, they found their way to Kurt's bedroom, even in the darkness. When they reached the bed, neither could barely keep their hands off of each other. Setting Kurt down onto the bed, Blaine stepped back, his eyes never leaving the mans before him. He moved slowly as he removed the remains of his clothing, before he was left with nothing but a pair of black boxer-briefs.

Kurt sucked in a breath, having never seen Blaine in this light before. He was tone and build and looked extremely delectable. He could barely hold his excitement when Blaine blushed, telling him it was his turn. He moved in a rush, wanting to get as naked as he could in the matter of seconds, and winded up getting his head suck with his undershirt.

Smiling sweetly, Blaine pulled the shirt from his head, and laid the younger man onto his back. Crawling back, Kurt moaned softly as Blaine kissed down his body, touching his finer points with his tongue ever so softly.

Reaching the waistline of his boxers, Blaine moved slowly went back up, holding himself up on his hands as he hovered above Kurt. He stared down for a long moment, his eye fixating on Kurt's. He wanted to say something. Express everything he was feeling; how amazing Kurt looked and how his heart could explode due to all the emotion he was feeling. But instead, he decided to show it; all through the night, between kisses and caresses and all the rest. Proving what they had between was indeed fact becoming love.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Soooooo yeaaaaah. I semi-apologize for the Davana scene here. I kinda needed someone to go before Klaine's sweetness and ended up writing this. I guess I get that M rating now, huh? Hope you like it either way. P.S, I suck at sex (hetero or homo); so when it comes time for Klaine's sexy scene, I'll do my best)

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Santana moaned softly, lifting her hips. In the corner of her eyes, she read the bright red numbers, telling her the time: 12:34. Four hours since her date with David, and a half hour since they returned to her apartment. It didn't take them long, of course, to shed their clothes and find their way to the bedroom.<p>

Simple, at first. Sloppy kisses, a nip here, dirty little whispered promises there. David went down shortly afterwards, sucking and nibbling ever so tenderly on his girlfriend's breast. Yes, Santana Lopez, also known as Lolita, was his girlfriend. And although she wasn't his completely, she was still his.

His to hold. His to kiss. His to. . . .

Santana moaned louder, mumbling a Latin prayer. She always does that, David noticed, when she was struck with sheer pleasure. Not many knew; for it wasn't something she did while at the club. Brittany confirmed it, saying she's never heard a non-English word slip from her lips (though it was usually busy somewhere else…) whenever they were working together.

He pondered on this fact, of why the little blonde would know such a thing, until Kurt explained it wasn't rare that the dancers were brought in pairs. Santana proudly proclaimed she had relations with both Kurt and Brittany, before telling Blaine he was a _very_ lucky man, winking seductively to Kurt, who blushed widely.

Santana moved slightly, chanting David's name as she he tasted her again and again.

"Omi-" She sucked in a breath, returning to the Spanish.

David has never been an egotistic person, but by God he loved when she did that. The sounds and movements she made and the words she cried, all by his hands. To be perfectly honest, he was fearful of what it would be like for them in bed. It felt wonderful; more than that, in fact; perfect if possible, for him, but what about her? With her . . . position at CO's, she has been able to be with countless of men; would David be enough?

They fooled around several times, fucked a couple, each time David tried to out due himself. Little tricks here and there, something to cause her attention, something new. As it turns out, it began to work, and little miss Lolita had a thing for biting.

He would nibble softly; on her ears and neck, going lower and lower. Her voice grew louder and before he knew it, she was screaming his name.

She was close and he knew it. His fingers were inside now, deep and curled, while he licked and messaged her clit.

"Cum for me, baby." He requested. Moving his hand faster, biting her gently.

Santana's breathing became shallow and her voice echoed as she went back and forth between his name and the Spanish prayer. She came with a scream and David lapped her eagerly, loving the musky taste that is her. She panted beneath him, her head dizzy. Pulling him up as he began to crawl, she kissed him hungrily, tasting herself on his tongue.

"I love it when you do that." She stated quietly.

"You taste amazingly." David informed her.

Smiling wickedly, Santana pushed at his shoulder, rolling them over, kissing him deeply. "My turn," she expressed, leaving feathery kisses as she made her way down.

* * *

><p>Blaine held Kurt tightly against him, his arms wrapped around the younger man's naked waist as he patted butterfly kisses around his back. Kurt half moaned, half laughed, scrunching his shoulders.<p>

"That tickles, Blaine."

"I know." Blaine informed him, biting his shoulder gently. "That's why I'm doing it."

Kurt turned in Blaine's arms and nuzzled against his chest, sighing deeply. The first night with Blaine had been out of this world. Romantic and sexy, full of rushed moans and deep kisses. It was something Kurt had never experienced before, and something he didn't want to give up.

It got even better in time; they grew and learned what the other liked and soon, it was as simple as ABC/123 to please one another.

Kurt loved his new sense of commitment; being tied down to one person, not having to be paid for the pleasure he can very easily give. He still had to dance the clients and socialize, but other than that and the nightly performances, his job was done. He made less money, of course, but he didn't mind. Being able to spend more time with his friends and family, and Blaine; being able to wear more of his clothes and sleep more into the night (or not sleep, nowadays), was beyond worth it.

But, along with this new found love, came another feeling: fear. Kurt wasn't a very smart man; he knew about fashion and music and people, but in typical things, he was just an ordinary guy; but he did know one thing: when you're in love, you're _in_ love.

And that's what he was. With all body, soul, and heart, he was in love with Blaine. He was shocked, when he first realized. It was like a fire had gone off inside him. He woke one morning after a night which involved less sleep and more love making, finding Blaine still sleeping beside him. He stared down at the man and so any thoughts popped inside his head: how fluffy and curly his hair was when he didn't comb or down it in gel; how adorable he looks with his eyes closed and mouth parted ever so slightly; how his back lifted and rose with every breath he took.

_Beautiful_, Kurt noted. _Oh how I love this man_, his thought, almost jumping as if he said it aloud.

Being who he was growing up and how people treated him, he was raised to know love wasn't something you just toss around willy nilly. If you something, you truly love it; not just like it to the extreme. So when he realized he loved Blaine, it wasn't that he had a big crush on him, but that he was one hundred percent, over the moon, starship in the sky, heart beating a million miles an hour when you touch, in love.

And as scared as it made him, it also made him happy. Because if he was ever going to love someone, it would be someone as kind, and caring, and devoted as Blaine. Someone so talented, and understanding, and open with himself. It was like a teenage dream, finding something he always wanted; something he thought he'd never have.

_The only thing to do now was tell him, but how? _Kurt pondered. _You can just spit it out! No! It was must thought about said at the right time! It must be romantic, and perfect, and amazing!_

"Mine." Blaine muttered, pulling Kurt closer, kissing the top of his head before snuggling against the pillow.

Kurt sighed, closing his eyes tightly, knowing this was the real thing.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Cute little Kurtana scene in the beginning. For all of you who like/love Wes and ship Westana... Yeaaaahhhhh...sorry? Santana learns something about David she never knew. Enjoy! **P.S, my beta is away on holiday/vacation in Germany, so if there are any mistakes, please be kind and do not yell at me or complain over comments. Thank you/Danke!**

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>"I swear, Kurt, you take longer to get ready than any female ever could."<p>

Santana leaned back, admiring her newly painted nails. Fire truck red, matching perfectly with the rest of her outfit. She and David made a deal, stating next time they went out, she'd wear any color he wanted, and he would do the same for her. In the end, he chose a foxy little red dress, and she dark jeans and black V neck tee for him.

Though Santana knew it wouldn't matter what they wore, as their clothes would be on her bedroom floor by the end of the night.

"Looking perfect takes time, Santana." Kurt informed her, walking out from the bathroom. Santana looked him up and down; his black and dark green kilt outfit fitting him perfectly, as all his clothes do. "We all can't just roll out of bed and look glamorous like you, dear."

Santana smiled smugly, coming to her feet. Grabbing her jacket, she and Kurt headed out for their triple date with the guys, and Brittany and Artie. The headliners as New Direction performing tonight, which gave two out of six the opportunity to suggest a date night. Santana was somewhat less than trilled, but agreed on going, wanting to make David happy.

Walking in, the two stopped the others immediately. Blaine, with his curly, gelled hair and black bowtie and vest sit out from the rest; though he oddly enough matched the owner and director of New Directions….

"Well you clean up pretty nicely, as always." Kurt says, kissing his boyfriend sweetly.

"And you, my dear, look _very_ handsome." Blaine tells him, pulling a chair out, allowing Kurt to sit.

"Oh, gag me." Santana mutters.

"You look beautiful, baby." David informs her.

Santana looks her man up and down, resisting the urge to lick her lips. "And you look hot."

David smiles to himself. "Glad you approve."

"Oh trust me, I do!" Santana was just about to take her seat when another voice came from behind them. An almost unfamiliar voice.

"Hey guys! Sorry I'm late, problems at the office." The four turned to see Wes walking towards them, still in his suit having come straight from work. He stopped, cocking his head at the table of loving couples. His eyes wide, astonished. "Lita? Porcelain . . . Charity?"

"Hi, Wes." Santana said slowly, while Brittany, who was sitting at the other end of the table beside Artie, waved enthusiastically.

Wes stepped back, laughing like a hyena. "You've gotta be kidding me! What? You guys rentable too? Shit! You do everything, don't you?" The three looked to one another, then at their boyfriends, until all we're staring at Wes, who was continuing to rant. "How much do you cost to rent? Six . . . seven hundred? Fuck, Lita you must cost a thousand! Better be writing an award winning novel to pay that off, Davie boy!" He jokes, carelessly slapping David's back.

Blaine cleared his throat, getting their attention. "They, uh, we didn't _rent_ them, Wes." He states. "They're out dates."

Wes stood their for a moment, his head cocked, fixated on the couples. "Wait . . . you're Kurt?" Kurt nods, looking at the table. "And _you're_ Santana!"

"Hi." Santana wiggles her fingers, smirking.

"Oh God. Fuck, I am so sorry. I . . . they told me they had begun seeing people, but they didn't specify on who they were!"

"That is kind of our bad." Blaine states. "Look, it was just a misunderstanding. No harm down, right? Come and sit, Wes. The show is about to start."

Wes nods, taking his seat beside Santana, just before the lights went off and the performances came on. Before the night was over, the group easily admitted the selected performers were, well, some of the most talented armature singers they've heard while in the city (which, if you ever really been to it, is chock full of wannabe-rock stars, pop singers, rappers, and all bunch of different people inspiring to be famous). They were hooked.

While Brittany and Artie were out on the dance floor, Kurt and Blaine were having a meet and greet with the singers, and David off getting drinks, the only ones left at the table were Santana and Wes. Santana tried her best to ignore his awkward, creeper-stare, though it was easier said than done. He watched her closely, as if were to pounce and eat her up.

"So, how long have you and Dave been going out, exactly?" He questioned.

"A couple months."

Wes nods. "Not exclusively, of course."

"No, we're pretty exclusive." She informs him.

Wes laughes bitterly. "Well, that's kind of impossible, seeing as you continue to be bought off at the club. Even to myself, once or twice."

"That's different." She says. "At work, I belong to the highest bidder. Outside, I belong to David."

"That's gotta suck for David. I mean, if my girlfriend was fucking any guy who offered her money, whether it was for a job or not, I'd probably loose it." Leaning back, Wes took along swig of his beer. "Then again, I'm not as perfect as David." He laughed drunkenly. "Then again, David isn't exactly as perfect as David."

"What do you mean?"

Wes leaned in, speaking low. "Mr. Porter other there, the goodie two shoes, isn't so good. Oooh noooo. He has a dark spot in his past. Something he's been trying to hide for yeeeeears. But don't worry. He's gotten himself together. Him and his richy-rich family are perfect, once again!"

Santana cocked her head, turning back to look at David. Mr. squeaky clean. Mr. Honorable. Mr. Perfect, had a secret. Not only a secret, but a pretty shady past; one Wes knew about. _What could it be?_ Santana asked herself, but her thoughts were cut off by a heavy hand touching her thigh. She looked back to see Wes leaning over her, his breath smelling like beer and rum.

"How about a dance, gorgeous? Fifty bucks, right?" He leaned back, laughing loudly. Disgusted, Santana pushed him away, coming to her feet. Pushing through the people, Santana found David making his way back from the bar.

"Hey, here's your drink."

"Thanks. Dance with me." She told him.

"Now?" He questioned.

"Yes." Grabbing the drinks, Santana set them on a random table before pulling him onto the dance floor. Whether it was the new air of mystery about him that make him somewhat sexier or the fact she just had his drunken friend practically crawling all over her and she wanted to feel comforted, Santana needed to feel close to David, to her boyfriend.

David held her close as they danced, like he always did. Whether it was fast or slow, some part of them was always touching, and Santana loved that. Whether it was his hands at her hips or waist or his lips against her neck, the feeling of his skin on hers drove her crazy. Like some kind of livewire ran through her veins, making her feel hot and sexy and safe all at the same time.

"Lets get out of here." He murmured in her ear.

Pulling him close, they left New Directions, leaving Wes and his knowledge of secrets behind.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". So, as you may noticed, I changed the couples to David and Santana, due to many request (and somewhat annoying messages) No differences have been changed. Klaine's storyline is still here, and will be getting bigger in time. Hope you all stay with me and enjoy this chapter; a little guys day out ends in trouble. **P.S, my beta is away on holiday/vacation in Germany, so if there are any mistakes, please be kind and do not yell at me or complain over comments. Thank you/Danke!**

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>"Dude, will you just shoot the ball already!" Wes complained huskily in the corner. "My grandmother could shoot faster!"<p>

"Pipe down, will ya?" David requested, twisting his hands around the pool cube.

Both men remained silent for a moment, watching as Blaine shot the six-ball into the left corner pocket with ease. "Yes!" He muttered under his breathe. Back in the day (before they started going to Club Cheeri-Ohs!) the three of them could come down to Dalton, the best bar to shoot pool, play darts, and watch sports, in New York. They'd have a beer, play some pool, and just chilax; enjoying the single life.

Of course, that was then, and this is now.

"About time." Wes sighed, walking forward, getting into position.

"Isn't this great!" Blaine asked around cheerfully. "It's been long since we just had a guys night."

Wes huffed bitterly. "That's your fault. You're the one's in relationships."

"And that's a bad thing?" David pondered.

"I'm not saying it is, its just . . . your whole life like, revolves around these chicks. Excuse me, chick and guy."

"Oh, well that's not true!" Blaine insisted.

"Oh really?" Wes mused. "Where did you do last night?" He questioned.

"I went to see Rocky Horror."

"With?"

"Kurt. He's a big fan of the classics."

"As we know." He turned to David. "And you; what were you doing all last week?"

"I went shopping with Santana. He insisted on me buying an entire new wardrobe. Stating it was "_so last season_"."

"She kinda has a point." Blaine mumbled.

"Yeah? And the week before?"

David let out a long breathe, walking to the table. "Tango lessons."

"Really? But you're such a good dancer."

"I know, but Santana says I have no rhythm."

"Do you see what I'm talking about!" Wes said aloud. "He and his boyfriend are practically tied at the hip and you've been pussy-whipped!" Wes help up his hand, forcing Blaine to remain silent. "Admit it! Before we went to that club, we used to _own it_! Went to other clubs; partied hard, danced with girls and drank until we passed out. And now look at you! Dancing and shopping. Do you hold her purse as well? And you! All you do is stay at home and lie in bed with your guy, watching old movies and talking about fashion. You make me sick; both of you."

"Hold up just a second." Blaine stepped forward. "It was _your_ idea to go to Cheeri-Ohs! in the first place."

"He knew about it just as much as I did." Wes stated, nodding to David.

"Yeah, but _you_ were the one who always wanted to go back. Hell! You're _still_ going there!"

"What is there to do? Seeing as my best friends ditched me to fuck around with some strippers."

"Don't ever say that." David ordered grimly. "You know its more than that."

"More than what, David! More than you spending money on her; buying her jewelry and fancy clothes. Wasting money you don't even have!"

"Well, we all can't be born with trust funds. Guess some are just liker than others."

"I guess so. Tell me, Dave: did you even tell her about your family?"

David's eyes widened, growing hard. "That's none of her concern."

"Oh, but it is! You say its more than just fucking around. That she means something to you. If she meant something, you'd tell her the truth! Then again, if you actually meant something to her, maybe she would accept it. Though its highly unlikely. Girls like her don't need the added on baggage."

David lunged forward, but was pushed back by Blaine, who stood between them. "What is wrong with you two? You're acting like children!" The two men stared each other down. Any other day, they would've seen their best friend. The guy they turn to, the one they tell everything; the guy they could rely on. But now . . . all they saw were strangers.

"Forget it. I'm out of here." Tossing his pool cube, Wes retreated from the bar. "Have fun with your girlfriend. Make sure to tell her I'll see her at the club."

"Hey! Hey! Let him go." Blaine told him lowly, pulling him back so he wouldn't chase after him. "He's not worth it."

David watched the door even after Wes left. "Yeah, right." He sighed, turning away. He wanted to tell himself it didn't matter; that he was wrong. But deep down, he knew he had a point.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Short chapter, I hope you like it. Before anyone else starts telling me how I've forgotten Klaine, or they're becoming a background. I have an ENTIRE Klaine plot. Only thing, and is, its more emotional, more hard to write, than the Davana plot. Davana is pretty simply, so I'm trying to pan them out first, and then go back to Klaine. Sorry to all those who are HERE for the Klaine. I swear, just give me sometime; you won't be disappointed.

Also! To those who I have converted into a Davana shipper, I started a new series based off Davana. Its basically a bunch of different stories of how they met and stuff like that. Its more for the show, so Santana is (kinda) bitchy again and its just cool. Please check it out and tell me what you think. Ima shut up now. Enjoy!

**P.S, my beta is away on holiday/vacation in Germany, so if there are any mistakes, please be kind and do not yell at me or complain over comments. Thank you/Danke!**

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Blaine pulled Kurt close, tightening his fingers which were loosely linked together. It was one of the rare days that they both had off from work and the weather was nice, so neither couldn't think of anything else better than a walk through the park.<p>

Kurt was going on about something; what that was, Blaine sadly wasn't aware of. He had bigger things on his mind. Like the little wiggle Kurt had when he walked; how it showed off his legs and his behind (though Blaine swears he isn't looking, when its quiet obvious he is). The way his eyes sparkle when he's excited and he does that little happy-clap that only last about three seconds. How soft his skin is and how perfectly fitting his clothes are. How incredibly sexy he can be when he doesn't even realize it; driving Blaine totally out of his mind.

There are so many things Blaine could say about Kurt; how kind he is, how straight up, and confident, and beautiful, and poise, and smart, and silly, and just. . . . Everything he could ever ask for. And as silly as it is to ever want to deny this feeling; whether due to fear or something like that; Blaine had to face the fact: he was _in love_ with Kurt.

The big question now was: did Kurt love him too? Of course Kurt cared for him! They've been dating for sometime now, and Kurt doesn't seem like the type of person to linger if it didn't work well with him. They got along perfectly; had so much in common. Sure there was the issues about the height differences and Kurt's love for heels, but what did that matter! Size meant nothing when it came to love.

There it was again, that wonderful word. Love. Blaine could practically skip the rest of the way he was so happy; as if he were stranded on could nine. Nothing else in the world mattered, nothing but Kurt. He had to tell him! And soon. But how! Telling someone you love them is meant to be special. Not just some _"Hey, how are you? That's great! I love you, by the way_" or _"Wanna go out tonight? That's great, pick you up around seven. Love you!"_ or randomly screaming it in his face or bringing it up mid-sentence.

No. This had to be perfect. Special, and perfect, and something they'll always remember for the rest of their lives. The only question was: how?

* * *

><p>"You want me to go <em>where<em>!"

Santana's voice carried louder than she meant to, leading several people to turn and look at them. She gave them the evil eye and a silent snarl before turning back to David. "Seriously, you want _me_, to go to _Ohio_, with _you_?"

"Why not?" David questioned unfazed by her surprise. "Its my parents anniversary and they've been dying to meet you. My sister won't shut up about it. It'll be like our own little vacation." David lifted his drink, taking a long sip before clearing his throat. "Besides, aren't you from around there?"

"Lima." She tells him.

"That's only a couple hours from Westerville. We could stay an extra day and visit your family."

"Great," She mutters unenthusiastically, sipping her wine.

David leaned in, keeping his voice low. "Look, you don't have to go. I just thought it would be something we could do together. Spend some time together. But its whatever. I'll go by myself.

"_Hey, mantenga sus caballos!_"

"English, woman!" David requested, his patients wearing thin.

Santana leans in, a smirk playing across her lips. "I'm in."

David smiled brightly, not daring to hold back. "Really?"

"You wanna take me to Ohio, show me off, and tell me how amazing it is there, I'll do it. But you owe me. Big time."

"I'm sure that can be arranged."

"Oh, it better. I expect a very long and hard payback."

David shook his head, smiling. "You're such a perve, babe."

Santana shrugged, lifting her glass to take a swig. "It comes with the job."


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Blaine asks Kurt's friends for help and Santana returns to the one place she vowed never to go back to. I hope you like this chapter. Also, I did start a Davana Series. Please check it out. I'd hate to not update this, due to the lack of reviews there. All I'm asking if for 3 reviews a chapter. Only three so so far. The more I get there, the more I'll write for this, which means the Klaine will happen sooner! Thank you and enjoy!

**P.S, my beta is away on holiday/vacation in Germany, so if there are any mistakes, please be kind and do not yell at me or complain over comments. Thank you/Danke!**

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>"Thank you both for being here today."<p>

Finn leaned back in his chair, exchanging looks with the two people around him. "Its no problem, man."

"If you don't mind me asking," Artie input. "What exactly are we doing here?"

"Well," Blaine stood, straighten his back. "You both know that Kurt and I have been dating for quite a while."

"Five months and twenty-three days." Finn said lamely. Both men looked at him, cocking their heads to the side. "Sorry. Kurt has been marking the calendar. . . ."

Blaine smiled softly; the image of Kurt making large X's on the calendar as the days go on made his heart go aflutter.

"Precisely. Which means in one week, will be our six month anniversary. And I want it to be one he remembers. One we all remember."

"What's the plan?" Finn asks.

"I'm going to tell Kurt . . . that I love him."

The two men stopped, stared, and then smiled, clapping cheerfully.

"Man, that's awesome!" Finn said allowed. "I remember when I first told Rachel. We were in High school. It was awesome."

"Brittany just smiled, and told me she loved me too. And then she told her cat. She's so beautiful."

"This is exactly what I'm talking about. You both have beautiful girls, a wonderful experiences!"

"Preach it, boy!" Artie stated, raising his hand.

"I want that for me and Kurt. But it has to be different. Original."

"And how do you plan on doing that?"

"Well, Kurt has told me all about how you guys used to perform, when you were in High school and college. Finn, you rock it out at New Directions. And Artie, I've seen you with a guitar; I know you can sing along with it."

"But why us? What about David? And that other guy you hang with . . .Wes!"

"I'm afraid David will be out of town that day, and Wes . . . he hasn't been the most . . . Supportive."

"From what David told Santana, who told Brittany, apparently he's been a total tool."

"Well, in a way, yes. So, I'm looking onto you two. From what you're girlfriends tell me, you sound amazing, and you're one of Kurt's closets friends. So will you help me?"

Finn and Artie exchanged a look, before turning back to the shorter man before them.

"We're in." Artie says.

"Yeah. Anything for my bro."

Blaine smiled brightly, hands falling to his sides. "Really? I . . . I don't know how to thank you."

"Nothing for me. Brittany loves the fact Kurt has another "Dolphin" to be with."

"And all I ask if you keep coming over for dinner and talking about musicals with Rachel, so I don't have to."

"Deal. Now, would it be too offbeat of me to request a group hug?"

The guys chuckled before coming together. "It's gonna rock," Finn told him, touching his shoulder. "Trust me."

* * *

><p>Five years. Five years, and ten months, to be exactly, since she last step foot in the state of Ohio. She wasn't nervous, so to say. After all, it wasn't they were going straight to Lima. That godforsaken town was miles and miles away from David's home town; much to her pleasure. Still, whenever David brought up the thought of going to visit, all Santana could do was smile and hum at the idea; though she had no real plan on going there.<p>

She left that place behind long ago and has no intention of ever returning.

She was leaning back in her seat when they approached her house. Straightening up, Santana lifted her sunglasses and set them upon her head, staring at awe at the vision of Victorian beauty before them. It was big and pale - made of bricks and other stones, with a large garden in the front, and veins spinning around the sides like something out of a dark fairly tale.

"Shit," the word fell off her lips as a soft whisper, so quiet David didn't even hear it.

"What do you think?" He asks, pulling the rental car up and parking behind a small silver car.

"Damn, Porter. I knew you were rich, but I didn't know you were wealthy."

David chuckled, raising a bow. "I didn't know there's a difference."

"There is, trust me."

"Come on, they're expecting us."

Swallowing hard, Santana unblocked her seatbelt and left the car. Taking her hand, David pulled Santana close as they approached the house; her heels clicking and clacking on the gravel pavement. They stopped for a moment and watched as the front door swung open, and a small child came running out.

"Uncle Davie!" The little girl cried, nearly tripping as she leaped into David's arms, hugging him tight.

"Gabbie! How's my little sunshine doing?"

"Good! Gramma and Gampa have been waiting for you." The child said as he set her onto the ground.

"Well why don't you go tell them we're here."

"Okay!" The girl looked up at the two, then to Santana alone. "Is this Samana?" She asks.

Santana laughed softly at the childs innocents. "This is _San-tan_-_a_."

The girl stared for a moment, and then announced "She'd pretty!" before running back into the house. David came to his feet, smiling widely. "She's right. You look amazing."

Santana sighed, looking down at her outfit. She was wearing a red and white shirt with a matching sweat jacket and skirt, with boots. It was one of the few "homely" outfits she had to wear, and with the late notice, she had no time to go shopping, so it had to do.

"I swear, this is the most I've been covered up in years." She admitted shamefully.

"Don't worry, they'll gonna love you no matter what you're wearing." David insisted. "Ready?"

"Well, I came this far."

David kisses her cheek, taking her hand once more. "That's my girl."

Taking a long breathe, Santana walked the extraordinarily long five yards and into the house.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". All Davana chapter. You get to see a little bit into David's home life and watch Santana turn green with jealousy. Enjoy!

**P.S, my beta is away on holiday/vacation in Germany, so if there are any mistakes, please be kind and do not yell at me or complain over comments. Thank you/Danke!**

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>The inside was more than Santana could've ever imagined. It was homey, yet elegant. Beautiful paintings and family photos hung along the walls, a long wooden staircase and white banister to the right, while a long corridor leading to the kitchen and dining room to the left. There was a young, well dressed boy lying back on the cough, playing Angry Birds on his iPod Touch. The moment he noticed the two, he sprang, smiling greatly.<p>

"Dave!" Rushing over, he wrapped his arms around the older man, hugging him tight. Pulling away, they pounded fist, doing some sort of "boys only" handshakes. "How's the writing treating you?"

"Not as great as being an evil genius must be treating you, Jay." He says, rubbing the boys head. "Santana, this is my younger brother, Jared."

Jared looked her up and down with wide eyes, his mouth partly open. He looked like a smaller, younger, and less built version of David, though he was more cute, while David was sexy; at least in Santana's eyes.

"_This_ is Santana?" He blurted out, pausing for a moment. "She's _hot_!"

Santana broke out laughing, though David seemed somewhat else amused. "Alright, I think its time to go see mom and dad." David says, turning his brother around.

"Seriously, how did you end up with someone like her? She's like . . . out of your league."

"I can't even begin to tell you how much I missed you, Jay." David says, shoving his brother forward. Santana smiled, following the two into the backyard.

She stopped in the doorway, shocked by the sight. Tons of people, young and old, filled the gigantic yard, along with several tables and a large tent. Music was playing, which some people were dancing joyously too. The girl - Gabbie - was in the arms a man, which Santana guessed to be her father, though she was talking to an older woman. A beautiful woman.

Her was brought back into the real world when she heard her boyfriends name being called for the third time day that. The older, somewhat handsome man who called it, stood from his seat and walked to David, meeting him in the middle and pulled him close, embracing him. It was a heartfelt scene, one that even had Santana smiling.

"Its good to see you son." The man says.

"Same here, dad." Turning around, he held his hand out to Santana, who walked over and took it, pulling him close. "Santana, this is my dad. Dad, this is my girlfriend, Santana."

"Ahh," Mr. Porter breathes. "So _this_ is the famous, Santana. Pleasure to finally meet you my dear."

"Same here, Mr. Porter." She says, bowing her head politely.

"Please, call me Samuel. Or Sam, if you wish." He request. "The nick name Sammy belongs to my beloved."

"Where is mom?"

"Entertaining guest and mingling, as she does best. Something you should be doing, son. Half of these people haven't seen in years."

"Ready to meet people?" He asks Santana.

"I said _you_ should be doing. Leave the girl with me. We'll have a little chat while you float around, showing the Porter pride."

David chuckled, shaking his head. "I'll see you in a few," he told her, kissing her cheek and departing.

Turning back, Samuel was smiling charmingly; almost identical to how David smiles. "Now," he mused. "how about a drink?"

* * *

><p>Santana leaned back, laughing gleefully. When David first asked her to join him, the only things that ran through Santana's mind was how awkward and painful it would be for her. Yeah, they've been together for almost five months, but this was his <em>family<em>. The rich, amazingly family that lives a little less than three hours from the one place she swore she'd never return. If anything, she'd be practically itching to leave, rather than stay and continue the embarrassing charade.

And yet, here she was: sitting and drinking wine, laughing like a school girl, eating up every word Samuel had to say. He was definitely David's father. Smart, charming, handsome, and very devilish. If he were to ever go to CO's, he'd have all the ladies surrounding him, hoping they'd get his pay. He had a somewhat air to him; mysterious, though he seemed so open. Santana saw that in David; as if they both kept secrets locked deep inside them, never letting anyone see.

"Why who do we have hear?" A clear, stunning voice asked from behind. Santana placed her glass down, turning to see who had spoken. Standing behind her was the raven haired woman she had seem with Gabbie earlier that day. Even several feet away, Santana could tell she was a strikingly good looking woman, but up close . . . she looked like one of the models her mother used to work with back when she was a girl. Her coffee colored skin tone looked ravishing in her white dress, while her dark hair was down, in a semi-straight, semi-wavy look.

"Here she is, the belle of the ball." Samuel spoke.

A moment later, David arrived, wrapping an arm around the woman's shoulders. "Mom, this is Santana. Santana, this is my mother."

Coming to her feet, Santana took the woman's hand, shaking it kindly. "Oh God, Mrs. Porter, I'm so sorry. I should've introduced myself earlier."

Mrs. Porter laughed a heartfelt laugh, covering Santana's hand with her own. "Please, I should've hunted you down the moment I heard you were here. I was giving my husband here a moment a long with you, but I could hardly wait any longer." She stated. "I'm Mary." She says, turning to her son, her chocolate eyes sparkling. "She's a beauty, Davie. Simply marvelous."

David smiled, looking deeply at Santana, who was beginning to blush. And to make her even more red, Mary pulled her close, taking her away. "Come," she says. "No more men for you. Time for some girl talk."

Before she could even look back, Mary led her over to a circle of woman, all chattering and gossiping.

"Sit next to me, Santana." Mary says, sitting in her chair. "Ladies! I would like to introduce you to Santana; David's girlfriend."

"Oooooh, so _you're_ the one Gabbie keeps talking about." A pretty Santana's to Mary's left stated. Reaching forward, the woman shoot Santana's hand. "I'm Rose, David's older sister." He tells her. "David is right. You're gorgeous."

Santana blushed for the umpteenth time that day; a rare figure when its only once. She met and spoke to all the woman, and their husbands as they came and introduced themselves, offering her drinks and food, and even a tour around Westerville. Santana found it all sweet and endearing; loving how everyone's eyes were on her. Especially David's. They were kept a part, as he mingled and said hello to old friends, but every now and then, his eyes could linger over and he could smile, sending her small blown kisses and a wink here and there.

That was, until later that night, when most of the guest retreated and those remaining went into the house for cake and coffee. Santana was with Rose, having all sorts of different girl talk, having a grand old time, when she saw David speaking to a young woman who wasn't at the party earlier that day.

"Who's that?" She questions, folding her arms across her chest.

The woman was pretty, she had to admit. Sandy blonde hair and bright green eyes. Her white skin went well with her baby powder pink dress, which fit her body perfectly. She and David were standing somewhat close; closer than Santana liked, and she laughed girlishly at nearly everything David said.

"Oh," Rose let out, physically unhappy with the sight as well. "That's Hannah."

"Hannah Hannah? His ex?"

"She must've come with her parents." Rose tried to explain, but Santana walked away, marching over to the two, slipping her arm around David's back.

"Hi, baby." She says softly, cutting into their conversation. "I've been looking for you."

"Hey! I'm sorry. Hannah, this is Santana, my girlfriend. Santana, this is Hannah."

Hannah smiled sweetly, looking Santana up and down. "Its nice to meet you. David was telling me all about you."

"Was he?" She asks, trying to sound unfazed, those it didn't seem to work. Hannah sighed, smiling less bright as she did when they were alone, and excused herself, saying she had to go see David's mom. "So that's Hannah, huh?" Santana questions, turning to face him. "Why didn't you tell me she'd be here?"

"I didn't know she would be!" David defended himself quietly. "Her family is an old friend of mines. I guess my parents invited hers and she decided to tag along."

"She's tagging along alright." Santana muttered dimly, looking over to where Hannah and Mary were chatting like old gal pals. Santana rolled her eyes, feeling near ill at the sight of her.

"Hey, look at me." David commanded softly. "I didn't come here with her. I came here with you. Someone I've barely seen in the past couple of hours."

"I've been kidnapped at least four times now." Stated Santana.

"Mind if I be number five?"

"I'd love that, actually." Santana leans forward, wrapping her arms around him.

"What do you say to checking out my old bedroom?"

"Are you trying to get me alone, Mr. Porter?"

"That, my dear, is exactly what I'm planning on doing." David says, pressing his lips softly against hers.

"If you two are about to get all freaky," Jared's voice says from behind them. "I'd just like to point out that I am the younger, and better looking of the Porter sons."

"Why did I come back again?" David mused.

"Cause we the shit." Jared tells him, winking at Santana.

Giggling, Santana took David's hand after he scolded his brother for swearing, and walked upstairs to his old bedroom. It was . . . well, its what she figured his room would be like. Posters and pictures of girls and friends along the wall, sports trophy's stocked high upon shelves, books after books lined up perfectly against the wall, stacking high on the floor. Streams of childhood and teenage memories lingered as Santana looked around, smiling at the fact David hasn't changed over the years, as his apartment is nearly identical to this; though more adult-esque and a signed picture of the Dr. Who cast hung in his hallway.

"Well," David sighs, sitting on the bed. "What do you think?"

"It fits you." She tells him.

"Not too dorky?"

Santana laughed. "You're a dork, baby, therefore your room will be dorky; no matter how old you are."

"Say that again."

"You're a dork?"

"The other word?"

"Baby?"

"Yeah. I love hearing you call me that. Just like I love calling you it."

"Know what I really love?" Santana asks quietly.

"What?"

"Making out, knowing anyone could come in any second."

"You too, huh?" Pulling her close, David kisses his girlfriend deeply, lying back on his old mattress, pulling her onto of him. Skirt or no skirt, Santana maneuver herself so she was straddling him, moaning softly as David run his hands up and down her sides, squeezing her ass ever so often.

"When was the last time we did this?" Santana mused between kisses.

"Um," David tried to think back, though his mind was a little fuzzy at the moment. "T-three days ago?"

"Much, much too long ago."

"Baby! Baby, stop. We're . . . fuck, we're at my parents house."

Santana leaned up, smirking. "So? That's the best part, babe."

David lifted his arms, stopping her from leaning back down. "I just don't want them to find us and you know . . . if I'm gonna start, that I gotta finish, ya know?"

Santana sighed, rolling her eyes, though her lips curled into a smile. Sitting at the bed, she fixed her hair, making sure nothing was out of place. David sat up, biting his lip. "You'll make it up to me later." She told him, turning to look over her shoulder.

Leaning forward, David kissed her cheek before coming to his feet, and taking her hand as they walked out of the bedroom.

* * *

><p>Santana learned three things while at the Porter household.<p>

One: The Porter family is an amazing one. Each of them were so kind are beautiful in their own way. The gorgeous woman, Mary and Rose, and the handsome men, Samuel, David, and Jared. They cared so much about each other and would go the lengths to keep each other happy and safe.

Two: David was the biggest teddy bear in the entire world. Whether he was with his parents or younger nieces and nephews, he was beyond sweet and adorable. Gabbie practically clung to him during the entire party and fell asleep in his arms. Derek, Rose's husband offered to take her, but David refused, stating he enjoyed how soft her was, and didn't want to wake her in the exchange. Santana saw something in his eyes; some sort of tinkle or spark, and knew he'd be a fantastic father when the time came.

And Three: There was no one in the world more annoying than your boyfriend/girlfriends ex. Either she was actually speaking to them or people were speaking about her, it was as if Hannah was always around. She just got her teaching degree and was preparing to become a full time teacher. She was great with kids and volunteers with the elderly. Her favorite color is sapphire, favorite mineral is granite, loves long walks on the beach and other cheesy, perfect stuff like that. By the time night came around, Santana knew Hannah was if they were friends and couldn't wait to get the hell out of there.

The only thing more annoying than that, was when people started crowding and asking her questions. Where she was from, what she did for a living, how she met David, all different types of stuff. She lied, of course. It wasn't that she was ashamed of herself or her profession, but it made everyone so much easier than she answered "club singer", rather than a musical stripper.

By the end of the night, when nearly ever guest was gone, and Santana was practically exhausted, she went out searching for David. Only problem was he was no where to be found. She checked outside and the upstairs bedrooms. The living room and kitchen and dining room. But he was nowhere. Santana was beginning to get worried, but then she began to hear voices coming over the farthest room in the hallway, away from nearly everything else.

The door was cracked open, so she could see and hear what was going on; though in truth, it wasn't what she wanted to hear or see. It was Hannah and David. Alone. Hannah was standing extremely close to him, nearly touching.

"What do you see in her, David?" She cooed, smiling. "She's hardly your type. Last time I checked, you were into high class girls with status and family, and smarts."

"No, Hannah, that's what you wanted in a guy. You have no idea what I want in girls." David insisted, pushing away lightly.

"Of course I do. I was your first, remember? Your one and only." Hannah moved closer, speaking low; a voice she probably used back when she and David were together. Something sweet and sexy; must've drove him wild back then.

"That was a long time ago." He pressed, ignoring the sound in her voice.

"Not really." Hannah mused. "I miss you, you know. Its not the same without you. Its like apart of me is missing. Part of my heart."

Santana nearly gagged at the line. Who was this girl kidding?

"You should've though about that before cheating on me. Look, we're done. And I'm with Santana now."

Hannah laughed rudely. "Seriously? She dresses like a Call Girl, Dave. And who the hell knows where her parents came from. For all you know, she could be a lower class lass, trying to climb to the top of the money chain."

By this time, Santana was practically sick to her stomach, wanting nothing more to do than tear this girl to shreds. Going with her instincts, Santana opened the door, starling the two.

"Having fun?" She asked around.

David stepped forward, his eyes wide. "Santana, I can explain."

"No need, David." She says. "I know exactly what's going on here." Cutting between the door, Santana starred Hannah down, her red lips in a perfect straight line. "Look, I'm sure this was all nice and planned out in that little blonde head of yours. That you'd show up here, see David, and he'd fall madly in love with you again, and you'd get back together and live that perfect little suburban fantasy life you dreamed about since you were a little girl . . . but its not going to happen."

"You act like you stand a chance." Hannah leaned back, her arms coiling around her chest.

"More of one than you, honey."

"David and I have history. Stuff you'd never understand. I was there for him when he needed someone the most."

"And then you kicked him to the curb for another guys dick. You may think I'm pretty much a prostitute, but I'm smart enough, and _classy_ enough, to know once you ride someone else's disco stick, you're kicked off the original forever. _Lo tengo, perra?_"

Hannah took a long breathe. "I don't speak _Taco Bell menu_!"

"Then I'll say it in English." Santana steps forward, her eyes peering down, dark as wild fire. "Stay away from my man. You can say anything you want about me, but back off of David. Because I can promise you. The second I see you look at him like you did before, the earrings are coming off, and Ima rip those little extensions you have right out from your little white head. Got it?"

Hannah wanted to say something. To tell Santana off and take David back or anything. But instead she huffed and puffed and ran out of the room with her tail between her legs. Smiling triumphantly, Santana turned back to her boyfriend, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry about that."

"Don't be. I'm used to girls like that."

"She's right though." David sighs. "We have history together. There are things about me - about my family, you don't know about."

"Shh. I'll know eventually. You tell me when the time is right. Now come on, you promised me something."

David smiled, chucking softly. "Still up for it."

Santana cocked her head, wondering. "Do you know me at all?"

Shaking his head, David wrapped his arms around his girlfriend, and left the room.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". ALL KLAINE CHAPTER! Its kinda short, but I think you'll all enjoy it. I'd also like to personally, and openly, apologize to Imaginess, who I was incredibly rude. This chapter is deteciated to her.

**P.S, my beta is away on holiday/vacation in Germany, so if there are any mistakes, please be kind and do not yell at me or complain over comments. Thank you/Danke!**

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>"For the love of Barbra, Rachel, will you please slow down!" Kurt asked impatiently as he strutted up forty-fifth street; his Gucci moccasins (which took at least two weeks to pay for) were beginning to wear out, to his displeasure. Rachel was sending him on a wild goose chase; going from here to there, for no apparent reason. Panting, Kurt leaned forward, breathing deep. "How does so someone so small . . . move so fast?"<p>

"Talent." She says, looking back and forth between the street before they crossed into Time Square. "It also helps to know the city as well as I know my voice range."

"So do I. You'd think the one with thinner legs would be quicker. . . . You're like a hamster."

Rachel turned, giving him one of her signature looks. "Only Finn may call me that."

"Can we stop? I wanna text Blaine."

"Sorry, this is a girls only outing. I agreed no Finn, you agreed no Blaine."

"Technically, I _am_ a boy,sooo. . . ." The look was back. "Just one text? Pretty please? I'll buy you Starbucks."

Rachel sighed, rolling her eyes back, ending with a smile. Kurt clapped cheerfully, kissing her cheek. Whipping his phone out, he was partly disappointed that he had no missed calls or messages. Pressing B, be typed out the message. _I miss you_, it said, with a little less than three at the end, and pressed SEND.

He kept it on vibrate in his right pocket of his skinny jeans, knowing he'd feel it perfectly through the thin material. But it never went off. Not a call or a text or a chain letter. Nothing.

"What are our plans, exactly? Have any musical tickets you wanna surprise me with?"

"Not exactly. I thought we'd just spend the day together; enjoy the sun and the beauty that is our city."

"That sounds nice."

"Precisely. Besides, Finn and I have been so busy with ND and you with your Godforsaken club job, and Blaine, I thought it'd be nice to just relax. Hang out."

"That if nice of you, Rachel, but I wish you didn't talk abut my job like that."

"I'm sorry, Kurt, but . . . why don't you come try out for New Directions? That club is horrible and you know it. I know how they treat you there. The outfits you wear and the way your boss speaks to you."

"It's a job, Rachel. One I like a lot. And it pays a lot. Yes, it may not be the best job around, and it is a bit degrading, but its my job, nonetheless. Besides, I met Blaine there. And I wouldn't give that up for anything."

Kurt sighed dreamily, smiling as if he were watching an old Elizabeth Taylor movie.

"You love him a lot, don't you?" Rachel asks softly.

Kurt nods, blushing. "I swear, sometimes when we're together, it's like you can feel my heart being through my chest. He's just so perfect and right for me." He laughes, tossing his head. "I swear, if you told me I'd be with someone like me a year a, I'd probably through water in your face."

"I'm happy for you, Kurt. Really. And I know he feels the same."

"Oh yeah? And how is that?"

Rachel didn't answer. Instead she looked forward, smiling brightly. Kurt started at her, bewildered. And then, before he knew it, the small sound of music began to play, and a soft bellow of singing. And then, pure magic.

"_I walked across an empty land, I knew the pathway like the back of my hand._" Kurt turned slowly, astonished at what he saw. "_I felt the earth beneath my feet, sat by the river and it made me complete._"

It was Blaine, singing for all to see and hear. Artie and Finn accompanied him, all in matching suits, reaching swaying to the beat of the music. For a moment, he though Finn had set it up as some surprise for Rachel, but when she came up behind him, pushing him closer to the men, he realized it wasn't for her, but for him. Blaine was singing for him, the middle of Time Square, not caring who looked upon them.

"_Oh simple thing where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need something to rely on so tell me when you're gonna let me in. I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin._" Blaine stepped closer, taking Kurt's hand in his, and slowly placed it over his beating heart. "_And if you have a minute why don't we go, talk about it somewhere only we know? This could be the end of everything. So why don't we go? So why don't we go? This could be the end of everything. So why don't we go? Somewhere only we know. Somewhere only we know_." By the end, Kurt was crying. His rosy cheeks redder than ever, and his sparkling sea colored eyes damp from tears of joy. Blaine's eyes glistened as he stared at the beautiful man before him. "Kurt Hummel," he said. "You are everything I could ever dream of in a partner. You're a fantastic friend. Amazing boyfriend. And all around perfect person. You take my breath away with every move, and make me thank God for creating creatures like you. You are the one I chose from the beginning, and I will choose you until the very end. So here, in front of our friends and all to see, I say . . . that I love you, Kurt. And I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, if you'll have me."

Kurt couldn't breathe. Caught up between laughing and crying, he forgot how to speak. Stepping closer, he pulled himself into Blaine's embrace, hugging him tight.

"I love you." He murmured into his neck, repeating it over and over and over again. Hearing his, Blaine sighed, pulling him closer, as the hundreds watching clapped and cheered, wishing them the best.


	25. Authors Note

Hey guys, its Em. I just wanted to stop by and talk about something. As you all know, I am so grateful for all of you who read this story and have been with me from the start. It means _everything_ to me. I love all the comments and all you fans.

But there is something I do need to discuss with all of you. I'm getting many comments from people, telling me how there is too much Davana, and not enough Klaine. As I said before, many, many, _maybe_, times, I'm working on it.

I swear, I'm working on a big, and I mean _**BIG**_ Klaine storyline. One that deals with a lot of drama and heartache, and its going to take me a while to write it all. I have the scene's in my head, but its kind of hard to get out on paper. I'm doing my best, but I once again, ask you for your patients.

I promise you will not be disappointed. Another thing I wanted to say, was that a few minutes ago, I checked to see if there were anymore comments, which there were, and I decided to read them before going to bed. There were three; two extremely nice ones, and one, that was not so nice. It was anonymous. And it said:

"_Seriously? This started out so amazing, with the epic Klaine plot, and now I just skim through it to see if Kurt and Blaine's names pop up. And that was your full chapter dedicated to them? I don't care about David and Santana. Santana is a lesbian, and David has like, three lines. I read this for Kurt and Blaine, but there doesn't seem to be any of them here."_

This comment made me cry. Its embarrassing as hell, but its true. I cried, and I was hurt. This person…who didn't have the guts to even comment using their profile, decided to tell me about how suckish my story has gotten, and how stupid a couple is.

You may not like the story, but that doesn't mean you have to bash it! Yes, I know there is more Davana than Klaine. I explained this a million fucking times! Davana is just used as a fucken time space and for my own enjoyment. There IS Klaine and there always will be.

I love everyone here, but honestly, you should be thankful for half the writers on this site, who write these amazing stories and publish them. Instead you treat them horribly and leave rude comments. Where do you get off? You wanna act as critics? THIS IS FAN FICTION, PEOPLE! Its what WE created in our minds, and you can't change that no matter what!

To the person who left that comment, you made me sick. You can't even judge me, or my fic, using your own name! You hide behind nothing, acting cool and tough. Well I can promise you, it won't change a thing. It started out as a Klaine and its going to end as one.

Also! You said you "signed up" for Klaine, well that's gone. The tag characters are Santana and Kurt, because this is about them. Like it or not, this is a Davana story too. And I promise you, it will even out in the end. Just calm the fuck down and WAIT!

That is all I have to say. I'm sorry if I offended anybody, but I've been offended several times due to the cruel, critics on this site. Thank you to everyone who comments, but please, think about what you're gonna say before you comment it.

I know some of you do it in a sweet way, and that's perfectly fine. Freedom Of Speech and all that, I'm all up for it. But being straight up rude will not be tolerated.

Thank you.


	26. Chapter 25

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Heeeello! This is a very short Davana chapter. I prexomise a long Klaine chapter after this; I'm still just working out all the kinks. I just wanted to stop by and say thank you to everyone who left me such nice comments. Yeah, I know you are all believe I'm overreacting, and in a way, I was. But it does hurt me deeply, when someone bashes my fic. Not only because they don't like it, but because they're complaining about something I already explained. To Hunter, and all the other people who leave horrible comments, I have nothing against you. If you have a problem with my fic, either don't read it, or message me explain what you would like to see. Because saying that you don't care about this couple or all you want is that couple, doesn't solve anything. Its my fic. And I'm going to write it the way I want to; whether you like it or not.

**P.S, my beta is away on holiday/vacation in Germany, so if there are any mistakes, please be kind and do not yell at me or complain over comments. Thank you/Danke!**

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>"Honestly, I've never seen my little brother so happy." Santana leaned back, sipping her iced tea as she and Rose had "girl talk", whilst David spent time with his nieces and nephews. "He hasn't been home in years, and the last time he was, wasn't very an enjoyable visit. I heard what Hannah did. If there's any constipation, I never liked her. She was too . . . nice."<p>

Santana chocked back her drink, rolling her eyes. "Yeah. She was real sweet."

"You're not sweet." Rose pressed, smiling mysteriously. "You've got a real bite to you. I like that. David needs that."

"Well, I'm glad you approve; though I wouldn't need it either way."

"Of course."

"I care about David. A lot. Kind of scares me sometimes how much."

Rose reached over, taking her hand in hers. "Don't worry. David feels it too. In fact, if I'm mistaken; and I never am, because I know my baby brother like the back of my hand, he feels the _exact_ way you do." Santana tipped her head, rereading Rose's words in her head; as if some deeper meaning behind them. Rose's smile remained as she spoke aloud; her eyes never leaving Santana. "David? Why don't you play a song for mom and dad. On the piano."

David leaned up, scratching the back of his neck, looking anxious. "I don't know, Ro. I haven't played in a while."

"Well, you're playing now. Why don't you join him Santana?"

"What?"

"Oh yes! Please do." Mary insisted.

Samuel straightened up, looking intrigued. "You're a singer, are you not?"

"I . . . yes. W-what is he playing?"

"How bout mom and dad's song?" Rose piped in. "Songbird from Fleetwood Mac."

"I know that song." She murmured David looked to her, shrugging his shoulders. "Yeah. Sure. Alright."

Each member of the Porter family made their way to the living room, where David and Santana took their seats at the piano. David look a deep breath, and closed his eyes, beginning to play. He was good. Better than good. Santana didn't know how to describe it. David . . . he just knew how to play.

Waiting for the right moment, Santana began to sing. It was a sang from her past. Back when she wasn't Lita. When she didn't sell her body to the highest bidder. When she didn't crash and burn, and swear to never return to this damn state of Ohio.

"_And the songs biiiirds are singing, like they know the scooooooore. And I love you. I love you. I love you. Liiiiiiike never befooooooore._"

Santana's mind wheeled back to when she first heard the song. She was ten years old, and had fallen off her bike. Running with a cut knee into her father's office, she tried her eyes out, wanting daddy to make it all better. Dr. Lopez was an amazing man. Smart, handsome, and a loving father. Wanting to make his baby girl smile, he lifted her from the desk, put on the radio, and danced with her, singing the first song that came on. That song was Songbird.

But that was a long time ago. Back when she was daddies little girl, and not every mans woman. Turning slowly, Santana looked with tear filled eyes at her boyfriend. The one person who had never asked for anything, but to be with him, and only him. To prove that she cares about him. To be there for him. And to just love him.

"_Annnnnd I wiiish you alll the looooove, in the wooorld. But most of all. Iiiiiii wish it from myyyyyyyseeeeelf. And the songs biiiirds are singing, like they know the scooooooore. And I love you. I love you. I love you. Liiiiiike never befooooooore. Liiiiiike never befooooooore. Liiiiiiike never befooooooooore._"

Leaning over, David kissed her softly the couples to "awe" and do the same. When they pulled away, David was smiling. And Santana saw something in his eyes she had never seen in another man's eyes since she was eighteen: undeniable love. And she didn't know what to do about it.


	27. Chapter 26

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Hey guys! Semi-Long Klaine scene. I promise, I have a HUGE one you'll be getting in about a week. That one will be extra fun! Until then, enjoy!

**P.S, my beta is away on holiday/vacation in Germany, so if there are any mistakes, please be kind and do not yell at me or complain over comments. Thank you/Danke!**

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Kurt giggled as he rolled around the sheets, his hair damp from the sweat that began to take over his body several hours ago. Blaine lied down beside him, panting, and sighing with happiness.<p>

"What number . . . was that one?" He breathed.

"Five . . . I believe. Three tops for you . . . Two for me."

Blaine stretched out, moaning tiredly. "I can't believe we had sex five times in one night." He laughes playfully. "I think that's a new record."

"That was incredible."

"_You're_ incredible. You're just so . . . tight and bendy. I swear, being inside you is like paradise."

Kurt laughed then, giving his boyfriend a strange look. "You're very odd, you know that?"

Blaine leaned his, his voice low and seductive. "Yeah, but you love me anyway."

They kissed then, and Blaine was sure time number six was about to happen; and then it happened.

"I want you to meet my parents." Kurt says between kisses. Blaine pulled away, his head cocked. "They're coming to visit this week. To check up on me and Finn. Carole wants to see how Rachel is doing. And they wanna meet you. I've said so much about you. I swear! Its like they already know you with the amount of things I've told them about you."

Kurt stopped, and looked at Blaine, who remained silent, listening to his boyfriends rant.

"You don't want to." Kurt spoke sadly. He turned away, pulling away. "Lord, I'm such an idiot. Why would you even want to meet my family. I mean, yeah, we're in love and I wanna be with you for the rest of my life, but that doesn't have to involve our families. And I say this in _bed_! I need to leave. I need to go home. I'm sorry."

Blaine grabbed him then, pulling him back into his arms before he had a chance to escape.

"I adore you, you know that?" He says laughing. "You and you're beautiful, self-conscious rants."

"Th-they're not rants." Kurt tells him, blushing widely.

Blaine kissed the top of his head, pulling him even closer. "Well, whatever it is, I love them." Grabbing his cheek, Blaine turned Kurt's face towards his. "And I would love meet your family."

Kurt smiled brightly. "Really?" Blaine nodded swiftly. "Oh, Blaine!" Kurt lunged, kissing all around Blaine's face, ending with his lips. "I knew I picked a good one!"

"Yeah, yeah. So, now that that is settled, why don't we have number six break us even?" Kurt stared for a moment, but then Blaine pulled him close, kissing him deep, pulling him on top of him, and Kurt got the message.

* * *

><p>Kurt gripped his boyfriends hand, crushing it roughly in his own. Blaine winced, laughing at the state of nervousness Kurt had begun to take over.<p>

"Kurt, my hand is turning blue." Blaine joked.

Kurt jumped at the statement, releasing the hand. "Sorry. I'm a bit,"

"Nervous?" Blaine finished.

"Anxious." Kurt stated. "Its been almost a year since I've seen them. And you're here. I just . . . I just want everything to be perfect."

"It will be. I promise."

Kurt nods, and waits impatiently for his parents to finally arrive. Finn got to them first, giving everyone giant bear hugs, and tossing his seven year old half brother, Robbie, over his shoulder for a spin.

Kurt exchanged a loving embrace from Carole and a long waited hug from Burt, before finally introducing Blaine. It wasn't was awkward as he pictured. He had told them so much about him, it was like they already knew him. Carole was sweet and allowed Burt to speak to the boys alone, while she and Rachel went over more wedding details.

That part was the worst, Kurt had to admit. Just Burt and Blaine talking over who knows what. They both liked football, so Kurt was hoping they'd segway into that, instead of the old fashioned "Who are your family? What do you plan on doing with my son? What are your life plans and goals?" Typical dating stuff.

Carole was much more understanding. She acted as the perfect step-mother; another reason why Kurt loved her so much.

Then it was Robbie's turn. The little boy stared up at the curled haired wonder, then back to his brother.

"Do you like boys?" He asked.

Blaine laughed, amused by the childs innocence. "Y-yes." He cleared his throat. "Yes, I do."

"Is that why you're with Kurt?"

"Yes, it is."

Robbie waved to himself, telling Blaine to come closer. Crouching down, Robbie whispered in Blaine's ear. "Kurt likes boy. He really likes you. He thinks you're _cute_."

Blaine faked gasp. "Really!" The little boy nodded excitingly. "Well, I'll tell you something. I think he's cute too."

"The really tall guy? That's my big brother, Finn. He and Rachel are gonna get married. Are you and Kurt gonna get married?"

Blaine stared at the boy, his eyes deep. To see a child so young and innocent, ask if one man was going to marry another. It reminded him of himself when he was little. No prejudice, no hate. Just wanting to know if two people who love each other, are gonna be together forever.

"I'm not sure yet, Robbie. But you know what? I like your brother a lot. I mean _a lot_, so I guess its up to him."

"I like a girl in my class! Her name is Vanessa! She has blonde hair, and . . . And these really pretty eyes!"

Kurt gazed from away, watching his little brother go on and on about the girl he liked to Blaine. He always thought Blaine would be good with children, but after seeing him with Robbie the whole afternoon, he knew he was in fact amazing with them.

"Robbie sure seems to like Blaine." Burt said, appearing next to his son.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah! I mean, it helps that Blaine is pretty much a ten year old inside a twenty-six year olds body."

Burt leaned over the island, watching the image of his family carefully. "So, he likes football. He sings. He played like . . . Three instruments."

"Four." Kurt corrected him. "He just started drums."

"_Four_ instruments. He knows about cars and dresses almost as good as you." Burt eyed his son then, thinking deeply. "You really like him, don't you?"

"Would you object if I said I loved him?" Kurt questioned bluntly

"Does he love you back?"

Kurt nods slowly. "Without a doubt."

Burt straightened up, placing a hand on his sons shoulder. "Well then, Kurt, all I can say is good luck, and just be happy. Lord knows how much you deserve to have someone care about you, the way I cared about your mom. And about Carole."

"I'm happy, dad. I truly am." Kurt tells him, smiling grateful at the sight of his family, and loving how lucky he truly is.


	28. Chapter 27

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". semi-long/short Davana chapter. For everyone who is a fan of Wes and Westana...sorry about this. Three more chapters until VERY LONG Klaine chapter. One I love dearly. Oh! I also wanted to announce that I'm going to start doing request fics. So if you have a scene you wanna see, you can send me a private message and if I think I can do it, I'll write it for you. Also! I wanna know who you guys like more? Sam/Mercedes or Sam/Quinn. I'm gonna sure whichever gets the most votes later on. Enjoy!

**P.S, my beta is away on holiday/vacation in Germany, so if there are any mistakes, please be kind and do not yell at me or complain over comments. Thank you/Danke!**

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>"Is there a reason where all here?" Santana was the first to speak up; her attitude flaring. It was one in the afternoon, and she had five hours to relax until she had to get to CO's; and lord knows she didn't want to be spending it Café Warbler, awaiting for Wes to tell them the surprise he had for them. "I have to be at the club in five hours. Its senior night. Which means tons of rich, old ass men grabbing and touching. I need to get mentally prepared."<p>

"Thank you for the reminder, Tana." Kurt said unpleasantly, cringing at the thought.

"I like senior day. One time I ended up with a pair of dentures. I felt like a shark, with all my teeth." Brittany smiled, playfully showing her teeth, biting at her boyfriend.

"Alright, Wes. We're kinda getting ancy. Mind telling us what you want?" Blaine spoke up bravely.

Wes cleared his throat, scanning the crowd. "Well, as you all know, I've been somewhat of a jerk lately." Both Santana and David rolled their eyes. _Jerk ain't the half of it_, they thought. "So, I came here, wanting to apologize. And in doing so, I offer you a give. Seven tickets to the Erik Hassle concert."

"Erik Hassle?" Santana leaned forward, eyes wide. "How did you pull that off?"

"A client of mine works for his manager. I got him out of a pickle and he wanted to thank me. So, what do you say?"

"I say fuck yeah. Bribery is my favorite type of flattery."

"Anyone else?" Wes asked around.

Brittany and Artie exchanged looks. "We're in." She spoke.

"Us too!" Kurt answered. "I love concerts. I get to wear my concert clothes."

"Concert clothes? What are those?" Blaine mused.

"You'll see." Kurt answered with a little wink.

"Its settled then. The concert is this Tuesday. Now! Who's hungry? My treat!"

* * *

><p>The gang gathered around in front of the theater an hour before the concert began, await for Wes and the tickets. He showed up about thirty minutes later, looking as causal as the rich boy from up the block could.<p>

"Sorry guys, meeting ran late." He explains, reaching into his pocket, pulling the tickets out. "Here we go. Seven tickets to see Erik Hassle. Now, there are five to floor seats, and two top decks. I'll be taking one of those, you'll have to fight over who gets the last one."

The six exchanged looks, mentally choosing who would go where.

"What's a top deck?" Brittany questioned, leaning against Artie's wheelchair handles.

"That's were the clients and sponsors sit."

"Its basically where the important people sit." Blaine explained. "They have waiters waiting on you hand a foot; giving you food and drinks the entire time. Giant speaks, big screen. Its actually pretty cool."

"Swanky." Santana murmurs.

"Thanks Wes, but Kurt and I will pass." Reaching forward, Blaine grabs two tickets for the floor.

"Britt and I will pass to. A crowd floor is better than being separated." Wes hands them each a ticket.

The remaining five look to the only two left without a ticket. David and Santana exchange looks, neither knowing what to say. Finally, David speaks up.

"I don't want Santana down there alone. Its too crowded and who knows what kind of people are there or what they're doing. You should go with Wes."

Santana looked to her boyfriend, slightly shocked. "You sure?"

"Yeah." He says, though it was easy to see he wasn't happy with this arrangement.

Wes, on the other hand, couldn't be more pleased. Handing David his ticket, Wes wrapped his arm around Santana's waist, pulling her closer. "Splendid. I have some people to see, so we better get going. See you in the high rise."

"Have fun!" David says.

Santana looked back, wanting to say something, but she was pulled away before she had a chance to.

* * *

><p>The top deck area was everything Santana could've wished for while at a concert. Comfy chairs. Perfect view. And as much food and drinks (mostly alcohol) as she wanted; which was all for free. The only thing that would've made it even more amazing, was being with the person she came with. Wes was kind, she had to admit. He showed her all around the theater, telling her all about the perks of his job. He was the typical, show-offy, smug Wes. Just like he was the day they met.<p>

"I've been here at least five times for all different shows. I'm telling you, being a lawyer is better than most people think."

"Only if you win." Santana muttered, looking over the ledge out onto the floor, trying to spot the gang. She found Brittany and Artie to the far right. Brittany dancing around Artie's lap, laughing joyfully. While Kurt and Blaine were to the left, not really dancing. No, they were talking actually. Whispering in each others ears over the loud music.

And then there was David. Alone in the middle. He swayed to the music, a beer placed soulfully in his hand as he scanned the crowd; looking unenthusiastic as the situation. Her date; her boyfriend, who knows very well about Wes' crush on her, allowed her to be with him, just to keep her happy and safe. And she didn't fight him on it.

Ironic, to say, that the son Erik happened to be playing was "Hurtful".

"_You don't know watchu got, til you're missin it a lot. I had to go and throw it away. I was wrong from the start, from the bottom of my heart, I apologize. What I did to you was hurtful. What I'm going through is hurtful. What I'm going through is hurtful. Is hurtful! Is hurtful!_"

"You can meet him you know." Wes' voice broke in. "Erik."

"You have that power?"

"With enough power and say, babe, I can do anything."

Santana smiled saucily, knowing exactly what he was doing. The money, the show, the bribes. She's seen tons of men like him. He was a ten a penny kind of guy in her business. And Santana knew exactly how to handle them.

"Anything, huh?" She asks deeply, her eyes scanning his body.

Wes leaned over, practically breathing her in. "Anything, baby. But only if your good."

Santana giggled girlishly. "I've never been good, Wesley."

Wes smiled, showing off dentist whitened teeth. "Exactly"

Santana uncrossed her legs, loving how his eyes never left them. "Before we . . . be bad . . I'm gonna go powder my nose."

She stood, smirking at his request to hurry back. Her added a bit of a wiggle to her step to add to her own enjoyment, knowing very well he was checking her out. Making her way to the floor, Santana held up her ticket, rolling her eyes at the strange look from the ticket checker. She held back her sarcasm when he told her that ticket was for upstairs, not the floor. Instead she gave a sweet smile, and stated she knew, before walking in. Gazing around, she finally found who she was looking for.

Reaching forward, she tapped his shoulder, startling him. "This spot taken?"

Nearly dropping his beer, David spun around, his eyes wide at the sight of her. "Santana? What are you doing down here?"

"Wes was boring, so I thought I'd come be with my guy."

David smiled at this. "You know he's gonna be pissed when he realizes you skipped out."

"Good." She answered with a smirk.

"You are sooo evil." Says David, pulling her closer.

"You know it, babe." Leaning up, Santana kissed him deeply.

Turning in his arms, Santana leans back as David wraps his arms tightly around her waist as they bop and sway to the music.

"_Of all the lonely people, I wanna be loved by you. Of all the lonely people, I, I wanna be loved by you. I wanna be loved, by you. I wanna be loved, by you. Oooh, by you." _


	29. Chapter 28

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Fun little chapter that shows all the couples hanging out, doing coupley things. Finchel and Bartie are shown. Little space keeper before I upload the next Davana chapter, in which the ball drops and you finally find out what David's secret out, and then the big Klaine chapter, which I KNOW everyone will love!

I also wanted to announce that I'm going to start doing request fics. So if you have a scene you wanna see, you can send me a private message and if I think I can do it, I'll write it for you. (So for all you whining that you don't get what you want, now you can :P)

**P.S, my beta is away on holiday/vacation in Germany, so if there are any mistakes, please be kind and do not yell at me or complain over comments. Thank you/Danke!**

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>"Finn, you my boy and all, but if you gutter this, I'm shank you and leave you to dry."<p>

Finn took a deep breath, looking down at the large, heavy ball he held just below his chin. Swallowing hard, he pulled his arm down, trying to smooth himself before pulling his arm back, and then forward, releasing the ball down the lane. Everyone remained silent as they watched it roll, almost dramatically, to the end of the lane, where it crashed into seven out of the ten pins. The boys cheered, pumping their fist into the air; while the ladies rolls their eyes, sighing.

"And that would put the guys in the lead," Arties states, doing his best to sound not _too_ in-your-face-ish as he looked up at the scoreboard.

"Just great," Santana muttered, leaning back in her seat.

"Its okay guys. The game isn't over yet." Brittany says aloud, hoping to raise spirits.

"David is up next, and aside from Blaine, he's the best player. Unless he strikes out, they're gonna keep getting ahead." Kurt told them. "You'd think Finn wouldn't be that good."

"Team, I have a plan." Rachel piped in. "We need to use our female anatomy to our advantage if we want to win." Rachel looked to Santana, her eyes shining. "Seeing as you're dating David, you know his weakness. Its up to you to make him miss if we want to get back into the game."

Santana smirked, rolling her head along her shoulders as she stood. "No problem." She says, walking to the lane beside their own. In the corner of her eye, she watched as David lined up his ball, getting ready to bowl. Yawning, Santana began to stretch; bending this way and that way. She was well aware of David's eyes on her; but that was the plan. And just as he shoot his head, getting ready to release the ball, Santana leaned forward, showing off her best . . . asset. Distracted, David missed his shot, guttering his ball.

Smiling innocent, Santana reached for her ball, taking it from the holder.

"That was a dirty trick, Tana." He says as she passes.

Santana gives no response; instead she blew him a simply kiss before bowling perfecting, getting the girls back into first place.

"Really? You go down that easy?" Finn breathes tiredly, tossing his bowling glove to the floor.

"Can't really blame him. A person ass is like a master peace." All turned to glare at Blaine, who was mindlessly gazing at his boyfriends bottom from across the way.

Kurt notices this, and smirked. "Like what you see, Blaine?"

"What?" Blaine sat up, blushing greatly.

"Keep looking at me like that, we might have a replay of last nights activities."

Santana and Brittany giggled, exchanging looks as Blaine nervously began to cough.

"That's my boy, Kurt." Santana murmurs, sitting lazily along David's lap.

Wrapping his arms around her, David pulled his girlfriend close, speaking softly. "I thought I was your boy?"

Santana purred, leaning in close. "Kurt is my boy. You, my dear, are my _man_. Very big difference."

"Hmm and you're my baby." Grasping her neck softly, David pulled her lips down to his, kissing her deeply.

Pulling away, David looked into her eyes, loving how the dark brown color of her eyes seemed to swirl around her iris. Santana bit her lip, smiling coyly. A spark went off inside his head, and he knew.

"Hey!" Finn's voice broke out, stopping the translation. "Can we get back to the game?"

Kurt stood, running his fingers along Blaine's shoulders. "Watch and learn boys." He announced, picking up his ball and getting into position. And then Blaine was gone, having fallen off the bend as he tried to lean forward, and get a better look.


	30. Chapter 29&30

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Here is my big Davana chapter. All the questions you have been asking me will be answered here. I hope you enjoy it.

I also wanted to announce that I'm going to start doing request fics. So if you have a scene you wanna see, you can send me a private message and if I think I can do it, I'll write it for you. (So for all you whining that you don't get what you want, now you can :P)

**P.S, my beta is away on holiday/vacation in Germany, so if there are any mistakes, please be kind and do not yell at me or complain over comments. Thank you/Danke!**

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>"Mind telling me what we're doing here?" Santana asks coolly, leaning against the wall of the large studio.<p>

When David told her he had something special planned; a surprise, she expected an extravagant date, with an amazing restaurant, good looking people, and she'd wear a dress that made her body look ten times more amazing than it normally does. Instead, they were in a small music studio, and she was wearing jeans, a cute black top, and black heels.

"I wanted to show you something." David explains softly, his fingers running across the keys of the grand piano, which was pushed against the middle center of the back wall. "Something important to me."

Santana remained quiet, giving him time to get his thoughts together.

"Back when I first started out in college, I was way over my head. This . . . ambitious, little rich kid, who wanted to be a writer, and change the world. Man, I still remember my first week. Spent all my savings on an apartment, which ended up getting broken into. The classes were long, the people were mean. I was a total fish out of water. God, I remember sitting in my room, on the phone with my mom, willing myself not to cry and tell her what happened." David laughed wetly, thinking back to all hard times he endured. He cleared his throat, getting back on track. "Then, I got a job for the music department at NYC. I would help set up for whenever they had performances or practices. This room here is where we kept everything, and mostly hangout until they gigs started."

"You loved it, didn't you?" Santana piped in quietly.

"Aside from my job now, at the paper, it was the best thing that's ever happened to me." He explained. "It was good pay. Got to see some awesome concerts for free. I met Blaine here! He was one of the crew men with me and we hit it off straight away. Then he introduced me to Wes . . . And we basically became the Three Musketeers. I also got to play the piano whenever I wanted."

"I know you love that." Santana thought back to his parents house, and how she sang to him playing. It was perfection, at the least. "You play like a pro."

David blushed. "Its kind of my guilty pleasure."

Santana pushes off the wall, her hand on her hip as she stopped in the middle. "Why are you telling me all this?" She questions softly.

David turned to her, his eyes mixed with a sorrow, simmering look.

"Remember when I told you there are things in my life you don't know about? History that you haven't learned about?" Santana answered with a nod. "Well I want to tell you about it."

"You sure about that?" Santana offered. "You don't have to."

"I do," He says immediately. "I can't look at you everything, kiss you and . . . feel the way I do about you, without you knowing." They stood silent for a few moment, they're bodies reflecting one another. Santana wanted to object to this, tell him he didn't need to tell her anything, but something told her it was pointless.

"Okay." She said.

Gesturing with his hand, David had Santana sit on the piano bench, as stood before her. His mouth grew dry due to nervousness, and his hands became somewhat clammy. He ran them down his legs, biting his lip.

"My family . . . we're not as perfect you people think. We've done things, things that were horrible, but necessary, at the time." Santana leaned forward, opening her mouth to ask what he meant, but he cut her off, continuing his speech. "You see, we weren't always this rich, upper class family. I mean, we were, when I was little and into my early teens, but when I was around the age of sixteen, my dad lost his job. And with my mom being a teacher turned homemaker, there wasn't much we could do. They had the big house and three kids to support. My mom didn't grow up the way my dad did, with all the money. She feared for her children; she didn't want them to have the life she had. Dealing with selling the house and move, being poor, have both of them have two jobs and never being able to see them. So . . . they came up with plans. Horrible, but well thought out plans.

"My mom, she's always had an eye for art. She could always tell if a painting was real, or if it was a copy. She ended up getting a job for a local galleries, where she would sell knock off paintings to people, telling them they were the original. The police inspected them, but they couldn't tell they were fake. She was just that good.

"And dad . . . he got a job at the rival company of his own, selling secrets about their plans and advertising ideas. It helped him get up in the company, but it wasn't enough. We were still short. And since I was the second man in the family, it was my job to help out. So I did."

An eerily silence filled the room, and David stared down at his hands. A small block of fear began to fill Santana's heart, as she waited in anticipation for him to say something.

"My ninth grade business teacher told me I'd always make a good business man." He says, laughing bitterly. "Sadly, there wasn't any salesmen jobs available for sixteen year olds. Except for one. You see, I was so desperate to help my family, I didn't care what happened. As long as I got the money my family needed. So I went to this guy in my school, who I knew would be able to help me. He was a salesmen, you see. But not of vacuums or soap or any of the other people you'd see going door to door or on the TV. What he sold wasn't promoted aloud."

"David," She began warily.

"Sixteen years old, selling drugs to the richest kids in Westerville. Kind of a whirlwind, isn't it?" He asks. Santana says nothing. Speechless. "Cocaine, heroine, marihuana. You name it, I sold it." David says, answering her unasked question. "I never tried it, ya know. I know what it did to you. And besides, the more I had to sell, the more money I had to give to my parents, to my family. I didn't tell them, of course. I told them I got a job as a waiter, saving up all my paychecks and tips to help them. They're professions were shitting, but telling them their son was a drug dealer . . . that would've sent them over the edge. They had enough on their plate, ya know? So, I did that for a while, just until we were officially okay.

"Dad got a new job. The one he has now. Ironically, its for the FBI. I kind of get a sick kick out of that fact, but that's just me. Mom retired, and I said goodbye to the pavement and headed off for NYU, with ability to know my family would be okay."

Santana sat there, registering everything David has just told her. All the stuff that Wes said, about David and his family not being perfect. All the secrets that his family had. The history Hannah and he shared. That part stuck out. _Did Hannah know about this? Did she sell too? Was she a buyer? _

"All that stuff with Hannah…?"

"Hannah never knew about this." David assured her. "The history we have, is the fact her parents lent my mine money when we first had the IRS come to the house."

"Does Wes know? And Blaine?"

"Both do. Blaine suspected something secretive was happening back when I first came here. I actually ran into the guy I started working with one time while we were all hanging out. I kind of started freaking out and Blaine demanded to know what was up. So I told them. They were great about it. No judgments. They're great for that."

Santana's mind wheeled back to all the comments Wes would make about David's family not having much money and not being perfect.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" She questioned softly.

"I wanted to be good for you." He answered. And in a near whisper, he added "Perfect."

Santana's head hung low as her mind whipped off in hundreds of different directions. Smart, handsome, talented, _perfect_ David . . . turned out to be everything but. He was a good boy with a bad past. Before that would've turned her on, now all she wants is to console him, but how? Santana closed her eyes, thinking back to a time before everything. To before she was Lita and worked at the club. Before she moved to the city. Before everything turned dark and scary. Sighing heavily, she made her decision.

"I don't want perfection, David." She spoke softly, honestly. "I don't want something I'm not."

"Sweetie," he began slowly, but she cut him off.

"Don't! Don't even say it, because I'm not. I'm a stripper, David. A prostitute. A God damn courtesan! I sing slutty songs, rip my clothes off, and let men and women use my body for their own good, just for a couple hundred bucks a night. I'm not perfect; not in the least."

"But you enjoy this work!" He half shouted, half whispered. "You love performing, having people want you. You love singing, and dancing, and being with Kurt and Brittany. If you wanted to leave, you would. I didn't have a choice back then. It was that or let my family fall apart. Your job doesn't make you a bad person."

"Neither did yours! You protected your family. That doesn't make you evil!" Santana turned away, her eyes glistening with tears yet to be shed. "I've done evil things before." She says quietly.

"Nothing you could've done is evil, Santana." David pressed.

Santana turned to him, gazing deeply, and yet brokenly. "Remember the fight we had back in Ohio. When you insisted on going to Lima, and I threw the fit?"

David's mind wheeled back to the fight in his car while visiting his family. They had one day left in Ohio, and David thought it would be a nice idea to stop by and see her family. Santana began kicking and screaming, and David was forced to pull over just to calm her down. She ended up getting out of the car and refused to speak to him until they got back to the hotel. He apologized, of course, but asked for a reason for her actions. She refused to tell him, so he gave up. Santana would be extreamly mean if you don't stop bugging her, and David didn't want their mini vacation to end in disaster, so he aborted the questioning.

David nods, answering her question. "That's because I can't go back to Lima. I have no where to go if I do." David cocked his head, wondering. He knew about her family that still lived there, and friends from High school. Unless. . . . "My dad's a doctor, remember?" He nods again. "Well, sometimes he'd bring his work home with him. Medicine, I mean. He used to make house calls, he was just that nice of a guy; so dedicated. He used to take me to the hospital when I was younger, show me all about what it was like to be a doctor. God, I was hooked! For years I wanted to be like him. This amazing doctor that saved lives and loved people."

"Why didn't you?" He questions.

Santana looked to him sadly, sighing again. "Like I said, he would make house calls. So he always had all this medicine lying around. One day I came home after cheer practice; my body ached beyond belief. So, instead of going to get Advil or Motrin, I decided to check out the stuff he left in his office. All different sorts of painkillers, just bottles and bottles of them. Anyway, I took some, and they worked. I mean they _really_ worked! I felt amazing for the rest of the night. Until, of course, the pain came back, so I took more. I guess you can see where this is leading."

David, who had been standing across from her, remained silent, listening to her tale. His mind numb, trying to piece it all together.

"You got addicted." He stated.

Santana gave a small nod. "You name it, I tried it. Vicodin. Percocet. OxyContin. Once I almost broke my arm on the chance of getting some morphine pumped into me. Anything that could give me some kind of kick; something that would stop me from feeling, I was game for. That was, of course, until I got out of control. Dad started noticing the pills missing and started questioning, so I had to be more sneaky. I would take some from the bottles, hide them, and take them where I couldn't get caught. He found out, of course, and everything turned bad. He threatened rehab, but I promised to stop. I didn't, of course. I just made sure he didn't know it. I'd take I was at school or when he wasn't at home. I'd break em apart, so, even though the high wasn't as much, I had more to live on. It didn't last though. I needed more. God, when he stopped bringing them home, I went crazy. I ended up using his card to get into the hospital so I could swipe some. _That_ was a _great_ idea!"

"What happened?" David asked.

Santana lifted her head, looking him in the eyes. "I ended up getting locked in the storage room. I was beginning to freak out, so I along with the painkillers, I took some anxiety pills. I ended up OD-ing. The cleaning guy found me knocked out on the floor. That was the last straw for my dad. After I got out of the hospital, he admitted me to the local rehab. It was okay, I guess. They break you down the first week, and then began building you up the next five. The thrill was still there, the annoying, prickling feeling of needing the drug. I ended up swallowing a huge thing of hand soap just so I could feel the numbness. Anyway, long story short, daddy said I needed to stay longer, but I didn't want to stay one more second, so I broke out.

"I still remember my last day in Lima. The way he looked at me . . . Like I wasn't even his child. He told me if I ever came back, not to go home. That I didn't have a home anymore. After that I swore never to go back there ever again, no matter what."

Santana's words echoed in David's head. The pain, the hate; not wanting to feel anything. All things David understood perfect.

"Once I got here," Santana continued briefly. "I got clean. It wasn't easy, but I did it. Got the job at Cheeri-Ohs! and started over. I haven't stepped foot in Ohio since the day I left," She looked at him now, her eyes deep and hurtful. "Until I went with you."

"Why didn't you tell me?" David whispery pleaded.

Santana laughed bitterly. "I'm pretty much a corner girl, David. You really wanna hear about my drug addiction from when I was eighteen? You didn't tell me about your thing either, and I didn't ask. Sometimes you just gotta go with it alone."

"No!" David said half-shouted quickly, coming to her side. "No, baby. No one should have to go through that alone. Especially you. Your dad,"

"My dad did everything!" She jumped up then, wrapping her arms around herself. "Councilors, rehabs; he did everything he could! He even considered retiring early, so him being at the hospital wouldn't tempt me. It was me, David! I was the one who didn't listen! Who didn't care!"

She was crying now. Almost hysterically. David came to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. She pushed him away roughly, clutching his shirt.

"You're a good person, David! Who cares if you dealed drugs; it was for your _family_! I got addicted my _myself_! I hurt so many people! My family and my friends! Can't you see! I'm a horrible person! I don't deserve you, or your feelings, or your kindness. I deserve nothing!"

"SANTANA!" He cried loudly, silencing her. Cupping her cheek, he wiped her tears away, looking into her eyes. At the time, his too were watering. "You are a beautiful . . . amazing person. You make me laugh, and drive me crazy, and make me feel . . . God, you make me feel more alive than anything ever did. Piano or writing! Saying you deserve nothing . . . Baby that's a lie. You deserve everything! A family, a career, everything that big, though cold at times, heart desires. You deserve to be happy, Santana. If anything, just be happy."

Santana kissed him then, tears running down both their faces as David pulled her closer; his hands clutching hard against her body. They pulled away panting, their eyes glistening.

"I love you." He told her. And Santana's mouth dropped. She couldn't respond. Not because she didn't know the answer. Not because David crashed his mouth down to hers again. But because for once, she didn't want to ruin such a beautiful and perfect moment.


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Okay everyone! The time has come for my Klaine chapter! I hope you all enjoy it. Kurt is sassy and Blaine is...well, he's Blaine. I'm catching up with the fic (I like the stay about three chapters ahead of my posting), so I'll be spending the remainder of the time writing my fingers off. Enjoy!

I also wanted to announce that I'm going to start doing request fics. So if you have a scene you wanna see, you can send me a private message and if I think I can do it, I'll write it for you. (So for all you whining that you don't get what you want, now you can :P)

**P.S, my beta is away on holiday/vacation in Germany, so if there are any mistakes, please be kind and do not yell at me or complain over comments. Thank you/Danke!**

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>"Seriously, babe, we can do whatever you want." Blaine offered, his patients slowly starting to wear off as the ticking of the clock grew louder and louder. "Anything. A show or shopping. I'll even let you ungel my hair for a makeover."<p>

Kurt, whose hands were around his boyfriends neck as his fixed his tie, smiles in amusement.

"I'll even trade in my Katy Perry tickets for a show you wanna see." Blaine objected.

Kurt stared at him, raising a brow. "You _must_ be desperate." He mumbled.

Blaine grabbed Kurt's hands in his, getting his attention. "You don't have to do this." He said softly, sadly.

"I know I don't. But I'm going to. You're my boyfriend, and I love you, and I'm not going to hide that from anyone. Not even your unconventional parents. Besides, how could they take one look at me and not instantly fall in love?"

"I know I did." Blaine whispers, taking Kurt's hand in his.

Kurt blushed, pulling his boyfriend closer. "Its going to be amazing, you'll see." He tells him.

"And if not?"

"Well then, we'll still have each other, won't we?"

"You're adorable, you know that?"

"I've been told quiet a few times." Kurt states, winking flirtatiously.

Blaine smiled, but he knew deep down, today wasn't going to go as Kurt had planned. Amelia would be fine and dandy with them. She would be kind and girly, and fall madly in love with Kurt. Carter would be okay. A little on the edge, but as long as his big brother was happy, so was he. It was Mr. and Mrs. Anderson that would have the trouble.

You see, they were raised to believe that a man shouldn't kiss another man, or hold another man's hand, or be another man's husband. Same goes for girls with other girls. Blaine fought this, of course, trying to show them that being gay was okay. He even got his friend, the only other gay kid in school (that was at least out), to come and pretend to be his boyfriend, so his parents could hopefully get the feel of him being with another guy.

It ended horribly, of course. His parents were incredibly uncomfortable around Sean, and made Blaine feel more alone than ever. He was more than happy to move out and go to NYU. Aside from the obscene NYC, Greenwich Village, and Gay Parade comments, he was as excited as a kid going to Disneyland.

Blaine found his way here. He brooded his music horizon; found the perfect job; found the best friends he ever had; and now he found the love of his life. And now, his family was coming back into his life. He was scared, but who wouldn't be? Everything was going perfectly, he didn't want anything to change, because of his families stupidity and ignorance.

The worst part was having to hide who he truly was. Not only that, but having to hide Kurt. It took him almost an hour to convince Kurt _not_ to wear his favorite kilt. It wasn't that he was ashamed of Kurt, it was just that, he knew his parents, and he did not want to set them off, causing Kurt to feel lesser than he truly is.

The guys stepped into the Anderson's summer house in the Hampton's, ready to face the world. It was already late fall, almost winter, but it wasn't too cold, so Emily thought it would be nice to go down and relax, and hopefully, check up on her son. It was exactly as Blaine remember from when he was a young teen. Paintings in the walls, music playing down the alls. Copies of Carter's sport pictures and High school articles hung up on the walls (mimicking the ones hung up at home in Ohio). A copy of Amelia's teaching degree was framed upon the mantle, as were pictures of Blaine, as a child when he would perform the violin.

Kurt smiled and gushed over the sweetness of the images; sassily noting how his eye brows never changed their magical triangle form. Blaine resented that, thought the statement was without a doubt true.

As they made their way to the back patio, Blaine's heart slowly began to race. This was it. He was home. And he brought Kurt. Who was going to meet his family. His annoying and arrogant family.

Taking one last deep breathe, Blaine pushed the door open, announcing his arrival.

His mother and father were sitting at the head of the table, his mother sipping back her wine as every one spoke aloud; though not to someone directly. The room filled with silence as the door opened, and the two walked in, smiling as bright as possible.

"Blaine!" Emily cried, standing from her seat, making her way to her son, pulling him into a heartfelt hug. "Sweetheart, its so nice to see you!"

Emily was a beautiful woman to say the least. She had the grace of a swan and pose as snake in the grass. One of the true beautiful woman left in the world. It was no doubt Blaine was her son.

"Hi, mom." Blaine says, pulling away.

Emily went back and forth between her son and the beautiful young man standing beside him. "You must be Kurt, correct?"

"Yes, Mrs. Anderson. Its such a pleasure to finally meet you." Kurt says, shaking her head, curtsying slowly.

"Please, dear! Call me, Emily."

"Will do!"

By this time, Donald, Blaine's father, was on his feet, shaking Blaine's hand firmly, patting his back a tad bit too harshly. "Nice to see you home, son."

"Thank you, sir."

"Kurt Hummel, sir." Kurt said, standing straight at the sigh of his boyfriends father.

Donald Anderson was a strapping man, with a strong chin and handsome features. Some would say he's the George Clooney of his group, others say the Brad Pitt. Nevertheless, he had it all.

Blaine watched in anticipation as Kurt and his father exchanged handshakes, wincing as he saw Kurt's teeth clench from the strength in his father's grip.

"Hey there, Brainy." His sister pulled him close, hugging him tight. This gesture Blaine was more than happy to return.

"Hiya, Earhart." He replies, pulling away.

"So is that your new guy?" She nods to Kurt.

"That's him." Blaine sighs happily.

"You're blushing, Blaine Daniel." His sister said softly, before skipping over to meet his new love. Blaine wanted to stop her, but he was pulled into another hug by Carter. "So you're the famous, Kurt. I've heard quite a lot about you."

"As I about you, Miss. Amelia. Or shall I say, Amelia, English Teacher To The Stars!"

"Blaine has told you a lot. But has he told you about the time I painted his nails Technicolor?"

"Oh, why no he did not. Sharing him?"

"Come on."

* * *

><p>Time went on, the conversations stayed mellow, to say the least. Mostly about Carter working on a football scholarship and Amelia's teaching in the Los Angles private schools. Kurt was well behaved, like he promised. He kept the sassy remarks to a minimum, and kept quiet. He brushed Blaine's hand during lunch, but Blaine pulled away, knowing his parents would see it and that would cause a confrontation, and Blaine didn't want that.<p>

He knew Kurt understood, even though the look of rejection that flicked in his eyes broke Blaine's heart. Eventually the conversation got onto Kurt, and Blaine gripped the edge of his seat.

"Now, where did you meet Blaine again?" Emily questioned.

Kurt sat on in his seat, smiling softly. "Its sort of funny, actually. He and his friends came to hangout at the club I work at,"

"Club?" Donald input. "You work at a club?"

Blaine sat up. "Not a real club, dad." He insisted. "Its like a karaoke bar type place. Totally cool. Right, Kurt?"

"Yes." Kurt replied slowly. "Anyway, my fellow performers and I,"

"Performers?" Carter echoes.

"They sing and dance and stuff. Like a dinner and show type place. Totally righteous."

"Annnnnnyway, our group collided and I took notice to his name; it reminded me of an old eighties movie character. We got to talking . . . we became friends. And here we are now. Together and happy."

Blaine smiling, wanting to take Kurt's hand in his own and kiss it. He silenced that urge, clenching his teeth.

"You never seemed like the type to go out much, Blaine." His father mentioned. "Blaine was always a homebody before getting into college. Never went out with friends. No, just stayed in his room and listened to the music and watched those movies."

"Now that's not all he did, Don." Emily stated. "He went to all those games with you. Fixed up those old cars. Do you like cars, Kurt?"

"My dad actually owns a body chop back in my hometown." Kurt told her.

"But I'm sure you didn't help him with that." Donald guessed.

"Actually, he taught me everything he knows. I can take apart an entire engine and put it back together and make the car run under an hour."

"Now that's something I'd like to see."

"Maybe some other time." Blaine insisted. "Its getting late, Kurt and I should probably start heading out."

"Oh, pish posh! You just got here. Sit! Sit!"

"Come, Blaine. Tell us all about that job you got at the music station."

"Metro? Its great, actually. We just signed this new kid, Derek Venturi. Awesome guitarist. We're looking to put a band together with him sometime soon."

"That sounds fantastic, honey. Oh, Blaine, you're never gonna guess who Carter got to meet while at football camp. Tell him, Carter!"

"Eli Manning."

"Did you hear that, Blaine? _Eli Manning_! From the Giants. You like the Giants, don't you, Blaine?"

"They're a great football team."

"And your brother got to meet him! Isn't that amazing? That's almost as great as when Amelia met . . .who was it, Don?"

"Either Madonna or someone, I don't know. Someone with an adopted kid."

"She had their child in her class while she was student teacher. It was marvelous!"

"Mom, that was a long time ago. No reason to brag." Amelia says, pushing her plate away.

"But dear it was an amazing accomplishment, of course we have to brag!"

Blaine stood suddenly, his chair rubbing against the tile floor. "If you'd excuse me." Leaving the table, Blaine found himself in the bathroom, throwing cool water onto his face, trying to calm down.

He knew his parents would do this. Go on and on about his siblings, and act like the things he did didn't matter. He hated that about his family. Coming back out, he nearly bumped into Kurt, who came to check on him.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Did they call come inside?"

"Yes. Blaine, maybe we should leave."

"Later. I gotta see my parents first."

"Blaine,"

"Hey! Go find, Amelia. I know she's been dying to tell you more stories."

Before Kurt could say another word, Blaine paced down the hallway, finding his parents sitting peacefully in the living room.

"Blaine! Dear, come on. Your father and I were just talking about you."

_I'm sure you were_, Blaine says to himself. "Actually, Kurt and I are gonna head out."

"Oh, but you just arrived!"

"Yeah, son. Pull up a chair, we have things to discuss."

"Like what?"

"Well, son, its about this . . . Boy . . . You brought home."

"Don't get us wrong darling! Kurt seems like a lovely young man. Incredibly sweet and your sister is just smitten with him!"

"He just doesn't seem like the type of person you'd be with. He's a bit . . . Eccentric!"

"Not that that's a bad thing!" Emily assured. "Its just, you've always been so down to earth and reasonable. Kurt seems like the type of person to do whatever he wants, when he wants."

"That's because that's the type of person Kurt is, mother." Blaine explained to them. "He's bright, and bubbly, and sassy. If he wants something, he'll go after it, no matter what the challenge."

"And that's great, honey. It really is. But don't you think you should go with someone . . . less open?"

"Less _open_?" Blaine echoed, his mouth dropping.

"Oh, not that like! You know I didn't mean it like that."

"She just meant someone less "this is me", you know what we mean?"

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean."

"Remember that girl . . . Sarah Carrington? The one from the town picnic? Oh, you and her used to be such good friends. What a sweet girl!"

"Pretty and quiet. Never said a bad word or talked back. My kind of girl."

"I wonder what Sarah is doing now? You should give her a call, Blaine."

Blaine stood, doing everything he could to keep his emotions in control. "I have to leave now. It was nice seeing both of you. Tell Amelia and Carter I'll call them soon."

The door opened then, and Kurt walked in, his eyes dark and full of sorrow and annoyance.

"Kurt," Blaine began, but his boyfriend cut him off.

"In a moment, Blaine." Kurt says, turning his attention onto Mr. and Mrs. Anderson. "I would just like to say your son, the older one, who you rarely ever give your attention to unless it has to do with your criticizing him or bragging about someone else to him, is an extremely talented and loving man, and you two should be _honored_ to share the same blood, let alone know he's your child.

"Lord, do you even _hear_ yourselves when you speak to him? The rudeness and arrogance? You're not his parents, you're just an old judgmental couple, who have nothing better to do than break someone down and make them into one of you. You're like Stepfordrobots! To think Blaine . . . someone who is so amazing, and caring, and understanding, could come from the same gene pool as you two. Thank God for modern science!"

"I think we've heard enough, young man!" Donald says strongly. "Now, you can say whatever you want about us, but we raised Blaine with all the love we had to give."

"Love? Telling him he should be with someone more quiet and _unopen_, is love? I always knew I was lucky to have a family who accepted me, but after seeing this? I realized I'm the luckiest person in the world. I have parents who care and support me, and not once have they ever tried to make me into something I'm not.

"I wish you could see Blaine when he's at work. How his eyes shine and how his smile seems to never fade. That is who your son is. A beautiful, amazing person, who deserves all the happiness in the world. And if you can't be apart of that, then I'm sorry for you, because you're missing out."

Kurt stopped then, turning towards a very flabbergasted Blaine.

"Lets go." He said.

Smiling, Blaine took his hand, and left the house, ignoring the protest of his family members. Once at the car, Blaine pulled Kurt close, kissing him deeply. "I love you." He said.

"I know." Kurt murmurs sweetly before getting into the car.

Blaine took one last took, a long, sad, yet peaceful goodbye before pulling away.


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Pretty simple chapter, its basically used as a gap between the important chapters. Its Davana/Klaine's reaction to some big Bartie news and Blaine has a question of his own to ask Kurt. Enjoy!

**P.S, my beta is away on holiday/vacation in Germany, so if there are any mistakes, please be kind and do not yell at me or complain over comments. Thank you/Danke!**

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>"Do you see? Do you see, do you see, do you see!" Brittany jumped up and down back stage of Club Cheeri-Ohs!, showing off her new engagement ring from Artie. "He proposed! He proposed, he proposed, he proposed!"<p>

Santana watched with her mouth open wide, as her friend bounced around faster than the energizer bunny on crack.

"Santana, look!" The blonde woman ran over to her, throwing her finger in the Latina's face.

"I see, Britt." She tells her dryly.

"It looks like a star! Oh, he totally proposed to me with a star! I wonder how he got it? Maybe Artie fixed a guitar of a astronaut or something? Oooh! Its so pretty! Ehhh!"

"Its just a diamond, B." Santana turned away uninterested, fixing her make up in the mirror before the show started. "You're gonna take it off, right? Sue will freak if she see's it."

Brittany, who was crowed around the other girls, looked up, head cocked. "I don't wanna take it off." She says sadly. "Artie told me he loved me, and that it looked perfect on me. I don't wanna have to take it off and look less perfect. Or have him love me less." Brittany looked down at her ring, sighing happily. "I'm never gonna take it off; no matter what anyone says."

Santana stood quickly from her stood, rolling her eyes and simply sick to the stomach of hearing all the gooey, bubbly details.

* * *

><p>"That's great, Kurt." Blaine says enthusiastically as he clears the table from dinner. Kurt, who was enjoying his last night off, blabbed to Blaine all about Artie and Brittany's engagement. "I can't wait to see the ring."<p>

Kurt, who was finishing off his wine, waved his hand. "Its in the shape of a star. _Son tout simplement magnifique_! Britt could hardly contain her excitement."

"I can imagine." Blaine laughes slightly. "That makes two out of four couples engaged." He mused.

Kurt hummed softly, picturing the day Blaine proposed. How perfect and beautiful it will be. Well, that is _if_ he proposes. Yeah, they love each other, but that doesn't mean Blaine wants to marry him. _Is Blaine even the marriage _type_?_ Kurt asks himself. _He's excited over Artie and Britt, so he must be along with it. _Kurt snaps out of it, hearing his name be called.

"Yes?

"I asked how much longer until Rachel and Finn tie the knot?"

"We're waiting for spring. Nearly everything is decided, except for the day. Rachel wants early, but Finn wants late. I'm hoping they'd just compromise and do it in the middle. Spring weddings in Ohio aren't exactly the easiest to book_._"

"I'm sure it will be amazing, no matter what season its in." Blaine toyed with the damp dish towel in his hands, his mind wheeling. "You know, its gonna be pretty annoying living with newly weds. They'll be all lovely dovy and barely able to keep their hands each other."

Kurt laughed quietly. "In a way, they're already like that; my dear Finchel."

"Yeah, but after the wedding its gonna be ten times worse. And what if they want to have children right away? Its gonna be rough living with them."

"I'll make due. I mean, Rachel has been annoying since they day I met her, and Finn is just a fool. If I can handle them when they're broken up, I can deal with them married."

Blaine sighed then, tossing the towel into the sink. Turning to face his boyfriend, he leaned across the island. "You could always move out, you know."

Kurt laughed bitterly, looking up. "Cause there are just so many affordable apartments close to my friends and my job, just waiting to be bought up."

"You could always find someone who is looking for another roommate."

"Live with a stranger? Yeah, no thanks."

"No stranger. Someone with a nice, big loft, who gets lonely at night and would love some cuddling. Someone with lots of room and in need of someone who has fantastic fashion sense to spice it up a bit. Someone who needs you."

Kurt, who was listening to his boyfriends speech, smiles mildly. "Blaine Anderson, are you trying to imply something?"

Blaine laughed airily. "Yeah, I'm just not doing a good job at it." He looked up, trying to grasp the courage to say what he wanted to say. "I miss you, when we're not together. I wait and wait for the magical nights we get to spend tonight; and not just for the things we get to do when we're in your bed, but because we fall asleep together. And there in nothing I love more in this world, than taking up with you in my arms or vice versa. And look at this place!"

Blaine spared his arms out wide, looking around the large apartment. "There's more than enough room for your stuff and we can add another dresser into the bedroom, so we can fit all your clothes. I think it can work. And I think it'll be good. But, that's if you want to."

Kurt stared at Blaine, keeping his composer, while he was in fact screaming with excitement on the inside. "Ask me again." He requested.

"Move in with me?" Blaine questioned desperately.

Standing from his chair, Kurt slowly walked over and stood before his boyfriend. "I would love nothing more." He told him.

Blaine, smiling like a child who was just given a pony, and pulled Kurt close, kissing him sweetly.

Kurt, wrapping his arms around the shorter mans neck, leaned back. "You're just doing this so you can get a roommate, aren't you?" He playfully teased.

"You're already my mate, I just wanted to share a room." Blaine confessed, laughing into another kiss.

* * *

><p>"I don't get why you're so upset." Santana lied back against her pillow, refusing to look at her boyfriend as he tried to convince her Brittany's engagement wasn't a bad thing. "They love each other, why not get married?"<p>

"Because, David!" She insisted.

"Because, why?" He pushed. "They've been together for almost two years. He's great for her, and she makes him happy. Why shouldn't they get married?"

Santana sighed, not wanting to deal with this. "I don't know. They should. They're good together, so forget whatever I said."

Leaning forward, David pulled Santana closer. "Baby, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit. I know you. You're already mean and try to close up when something is bothering you. Talk to me."

Santana looked to him them, blushing slightly. "Really, its nothing. I just . . . I know she's happy and she belongs with him. But I can't shake the fact I think Brittany getting married is a stupid idea. I mean, what about her job? I highly doubt Artie will allow her to continue working afterwards. And what if they want kids? Brittany has the attention span of a six year old and he can't use his legs without some robotic helper thing; how will they be able to have children?"

David sighed, understanding Santana's point. David thought about the same when he first heard about it from Blaine, but then again, David was always the hopeless romantic. Always hoped for the best, no matter what the couple.

"Its gonna be hard, but they're both responsible. And truthfully? I think they'd be great parents. Brittany would be amazing if she had a little girl, same with Artie for a boy. And as for working, I really don't think Brittany would hate leaving Cheeri-Ohs!. I mean, she loves the club, and singing and dancing, but if it meant being with Artie, I don't think she'd care."

Santana sighed, wishing she didn't open her mouth, setting David off. She swore they were exact opposites half the time. She, the always pessimistic, him the optimistic. That annoyed her always.

"You're right." She says, wanting to end the conversation.

David smirked. "When am I not?"

"More than you think, babe."

"Yeah well, I'm right about this one. You even admit it."

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up and kiss me."

"Are you saying that because you want it, or because you actually just want me to shut up?"

"Which do you think?"

David thought about it. "Both?"

Santana smiled. "Right again." She pulled him down and kisses him deeply.


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Pretty small chapter with Britt, Santana, and Blaine. Santana and Blaine have a convo regarding Kurt, which ends in being about something more bigger than just a job offer.

ALSO! For my Klainers over there. I started a new series which is **_ALL KLAINE!_** Yes, there will be Finchel and other couples on the side, but it will not feature them (not like how Davana is in this story). Its called Send Me An Angel; its about Kurt trying to put his life back together after a sexual bashing, and how he meets Blaine and well, you'll have to check it out to see!

**P.S, my beta is away on holiday/vacation in Germany, so if there are any mistakes, please be kind and do not yell at me or complain over comments. Thank you/Danke!**

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Blaine sat quietly in the booth, sipping down his gin and tonic. Kurt was getting off later than usual, and thought it would be fun for Blaine to come in and wait for him. Blaine, of course, didn't find it very entertaining. Kurt was out having the famous three-minute-conversation with potential clients, while Blaine sat there like an idiot, clutching his drink, and politely assuring the girls that he wasn't interested.<p>

Thankfully for him, Brittany would come over and chat every now and then. She was a sweet girl and Artie was the man, so Blaine was ecstatic to see her.

"Who is Santana talking to?" Blaine asks, noticing the large crowd near the bar.

Though they were too far away, and the music was too loud, so they couldn't hear the conversation, Blaine watched as Santana laughed over something the man in the center said, leaning against him. He was a tall guy, though Santana was cutting close thanks to her heels. You couldn't said he was fat, but he was definitely big, thanks to his muscles. And even Blaine had to admit he was good looking.

"That's Dave Karofsky." Brittany tells him, gigging. "He plays for the Giants. He only comes around a couple times a year. He and Santana are like this." Brittany twist her fingers around, showing how close the two are.

"Why so close? She is favorite?" Blaine's mind shifted to David, and how insecure he is about Santana working at the club. One sight of this guy and David would be throwing a fight in seconds.

"He was her first." Brittany explains. "When she first started working her, he was the first costumer. They were totally cute! Both so nervous and shy. It was like an eighth grade dance!"

"Does he still rent her?"

Brittany giggled again, shaking her head. "He's a total dolphin."

Blaine cocked his head, trying to remember what Brittany meant when she first said that. Opening his mouth to speak, Blaine was cut off by a very happy Santana.

"Three hundred just for looking pretty! I swear, K is beyond dope."

"Brittany tells me Karofsky is a "dolphin"?"

Santana nods slowly. "Such a shame. I mean, he looks like he's into chicks; but you can totally tell he gives off that I-like-boys vibe. Too bad he's hooked on Kurt's phonics."

Blaine nearly spit out his drink. "Excuse me?" He didn't know what shocked him more. That the handsome football player was gay or that he was interested in Kurt.

"He's been checking him and decided he wants to play."

"But . . . that impossible. Kurt quit that. I know he did."

"Oh, he did, but that's not gonna stop Dave. He said he's willing pay _twice _the normal rate; if not triple. And lord knows Sue won't allow him to say no."

Blaine set his drink slowly on the table as his mind began to spin. He looked across to where Kurt was dancing innocently with one of the older female clients. _Would he agree to that? It was a lot of money, yeah, but what about me?_ The questioned went on and on, until Blaine felt physically sick.

"Blaine? Tana, I think Blaine is sick."

"I'm . . . I'm fine." He answered.

"Britt, I'm gonna take my half." Santana says. Taking his arm, Santana pulled him up until he stood. "Come on, pretty boy." Once outside, Blaine breathed deeply, leaning against the cold, concrete wall; the liquor slowly getting to his head, taking over his body. "If you're gonna puke, do it out here."

"I'm okay. God, I hate this."

"Hate what?" Santana questions, feeling noisy.

"Being jealous. Knowing someone could take him away so easily."

"Oh, come on. Its not like he'd actually leave you for Dave. I mean yeah, he's rich, good looking, and amazingly sweet, but that doesn't mean anything. Besides, this is a good thing!"

Blaine looked at her, his eyes dark. "How the _hell_ is this a good thing?"

Santana stepped closer, smiling sweet. "Think of all the money he'd be making. Probably about a week's worth in one night! Imagine all the things you could do with that."

Blaine stood his head, pounding his fists against the all. "You don't get it, do you?" He asked roughly. "When you love someone, you don't have sex with anybody else. But wait, I forgot. You _don't_ understand that."

"Excuse me?" Santana folded her arms across her chest, reading to go "all Lima Heights" as she used to say as a teen.

"David . . . He fucking _loves_ you, Santana. And instead of saying it back, and being like, you know, a normal human being, you come here; fucking every guy and girl willing to pay."

Santana stood silently, her mouth ajar and her eyes shining with tears yet to be shed. Blaine shook his head, walking backwards down the alley. "I don't know what he see's in you. But I hope for his sake, he gets over it." He says before turning away, leaving Santana to wallow alone.


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Sooo, this is probably the one of the last happy chapters for a while; at least in Davana's case. The drama is slowly beginning to stir up and soon its gonna explode. I'd like to give a very big **_THANK _**YOU and less than three to my new beta _**Bjaarcy**_! She is totally awesome, you should totally check out her stuff; I'd love to marry her profile just because of how organized it is! Have fun!

Also, to the Klainer's, I'll be updating Send Me An Angel soon. Please check it out! Its very different from most Klaine fics, and I think you'll all enjoy it!

****P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Santana leaned up against the windowsill, watching the rain fall faster than a penny off the Empire State building. It was late and she couldn't sleep. David slept over again, much to her enjoyment. Kurt and Blaine just finished moving Kurt into the apartment, and David was kind enough to let them have the night to themselves, so they could "settle in".<p>

Santana didn't mind at all. She loved the nights David decided to stay over for several difference reasons. She never had to cook or go out for dinner when David was over, he did it all for her. Santana had always been fond of her own cooking, but whatever David does - that special touch he has - leads to Santana wanting him always cook for her.

Then there was the relaxing and cuddling. It was very rare of them to be in one room together and not be touching. Even if it was just holding hands or lying together on the touch, the two always seemed to be connected.

And then there was one of Santana's favorites: the sex. Neither could explain it, but sex for them was every word in the dictionary that meant or even had some part to do with perfect. Whether it was slow or fast, lasted all night or even just a couple minutes, it was amazing for them. The way they touched, and kissed, and held each other . . . It was like the whole world disappeared, and the only thing that remained was them.

Tonight was slow. Slow and wonderful. The lights went out from the storm, but they liked it better that way. They didn't use a condom, but then again, they liked it better that way too. Santana was taken care of long ago, and each had been tested negative the week before, (something Blaine suggested they get every month or so, just incase), so all they needed was each other.

It lasted long, and when it finally was over, they lied together, breathing, and smiling, and kissing. David fell asleep first, which was nothing new for them. Santana liked that feeling, being able to sleep in his arms, feel his breathing against her back.

Tonight was different, though. Tonight Santana couldn't get to sleep, no matter how hard she tried. Finally she gave up and came to the window; Blaine's words echoing in her head the entire time.

She turned the radio on quietly, hoping the music would drain out her thoughts. It didn't work, of course. David loved her. She knew this for a fact. Not just because he said it, because he showed it. Showed it in ever thing he did. The way kissed her, and held her, and the way they made love (his definition of it), and the simple way he looked at her.

Santana resented Blaine for what he said to her. She wanted nothing more than to make him pay for it, but she knew she never could. How could you make someone pay for simply telling the truth? She didn't deserve David; she never did. How he got hooked and fell for her was outrageous and probably something she'd never understand. But he did.

And she didn't know what to do. She thought about the rhyme she used to sing when she was a little girl. _"First comes love, then comes married, then come _blank_ with the baby carriage."_ Santana wasn't ready for marriage or babies or even love for that matter. She was a Cheeri-Ohs! performer and basically worked for a Cat House. She sold herself to the highest bidder and sung for merely nothing.

She threw away any chance she had at a normal, happy life, the moment she took her first pain killer that day in her father's office. No, she couldn't marry David, and be his wife. She couldn't have his children or live under the same roof with him. She couldn't love him the way he deserved to be loved.

And once again, Santana didn't know what to do about it. Because she was stuck. Whether she deserved it or not, and whether he deserved better or not, she just couldn't let him go.

"Hey," His smooth voice murmured, as he stepped into the moonlight from the darkness.

"What are you doing out here?"

"I couldn't sleep." She answered. "What's your excuse?"

David blushed, stepping closer. "Same." He told her. "I can't sleep without my spare blanket."

Santana hummed softly as he embraced her. He used to tease her about how he always had trouble sleeping, and once they started spending nights tonight, those problems dissolved. Santana used to think it was nothing, though, now, she's coming to believe its something more.

"Isn't this one of your favorites?" He muttered against her hair, giving attention to the song change.

It was indeed one of her favorites, she noted after listening for a short moment. Eric Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight".

"Care to dance?" He asked. Taking her hand, David led her to the middle of the living room. Pulling her close, David wrapped his arms around her, as they swayed with the music. Santana rested her head against his cold, shirtless chest. They were quiet for most of the way; just dancing to the music, enjoying the night.

"_Oh, my darlin! You were wonderful tonight_." David whispered softly in her ear, singing the very last line perfectly.

Santana looked up then, and gazed into those black eyes she cared for so deeply. Everything she had been thinking about tonight came wheeling back into her head, but she forced them out with a kiss. For one night, she didn't want to think about her choices. For one night, Santana truly just wanted to be happy.


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Let the drama begin!

Thank you to Bjaarcy, for being an awesome beta! Oh! And thank you to **_Krustel_** for the idea of _Blaine being jealous and possibly even buy Kurt_. ALSO! Have any of you read YaDiva's Political Romance? Its a bit dark, and Blaine is soo evil, in a sexy way, but totally amazing!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Blaine fidgeted at work, his pen twisting between his fingers. He tried to forget it; tried to ignore it. It wasn't a big deal, really. So what if some hot, macho, rich football player wanted to buy Kurt? Kurt was a hot item, and a lot of people wanted to buy him. He's turned them all down before. Who says he won't turn this Karofsky guy down? But then again, who says he will? And even if he does, his boss would never let him turn it down!<p>

As much as Kurt loves him, Santana had a point, that was a lot of money, and who knows what they could do with it. _No!_ Blaine thought harshly. _Kurt is mine! He can't be with some other guy. No matter what the price!_

Standing from his desk, Blaine made up his mind. He was gonna make sure no one would ever buy Kurt ever again.

* * *

><p>Blaine swore if he was ever to have a meeting with the mafia, it wouldn't be have as nerve racking as meeting the one Sue Sylvester. Her office was small and dark; filled with awards and pictures all from her past achievements. Her assistant, Becky, was standing behind his chair, her clipboard tucked perfectly under her arms.<p>

"Well, Mr. Curley Q, how can I be of service today?" Sue asked, linking her fingers together as she reclined in her chair.

Blaine cleared his throat, leaning forward. "Well, you see Ms. Sylvester."

"Stop right there Brown Carrot Top," Sue lifted a hand, stopping him. "You don't know me or my family, and you do not work for me. So if you're going to address me, do it by either just Sylvester, Caption Doom, or Lieutenant Whiplash."

"Only I can call her Coach." Becky says aloud.

"That's right, Becky."

"Well . . . Sylvester . . . It just so happens that I'm dating one of your performers. Kurt Hummel?"

"Ahh, so you're Porcelains piece of man candy. I always thought he was more into the rough, bad boy type. Instead he goes with a pretty boy." Sue shook her head, disappointed.

"Yes . . . Well, its come to my attention that, although he refuses any . . . sexual contact, with any of the clients, that someone as offered to pay triple the normal rate for a night."

"That's classified information," Sue says. "Who told this to you."

"Is it true or not, Sylvester?"

Sue sighed, standing from her chair and walking around her office, looking longingly at her awards. "It just so happens a certain client of mine as requested to have Porcelain all to himself to the night. The amount, well that's none of your business."

"Well, what if Por-Kurt, doesn't want to do it?"

"That, my little hobbit, would be simply impossible. You see all my girls sign a contract, saying unless they were in a certain danger, they must do everything the boss; i.e. me, tells them to do. And since the man is willing to pay so high, it would be foolish to turn it down."

"Sylvester, I don't mean to be rude, but Kurt and I, we're in a committed relationship."

"Awe, that's sweet. But it just so happens that Porcelain and I have had a committed relationship before you even stepped your gel head into my club. So when it really comes down to it, I'm the one he's going to choose."

"Is there anyway I can get you to change your mind?"

"Unless you can top my first offer, there's nothing you can do. Now, if you'd please excuse me, I have to go talk to a girl about losing five pounds in one week. She has a great body, but her legs jiggle faster then jelly whenever she's dancing around a pole. Disgusting."

And then the small lit bulb went on above Blaine's head. It wasn't a full proof plan and he was about sixty percent sure it'd blow up in his face, but it would work.

"What would you say to getting twenty-five thousand dollars?"

Sue stopped and thought about it. "Keep talking."

"You get all of it, but, you have to take Kurt off everything. No dancing with clients. No chit chatting. No flirting. Just perform on stage and that's it."

"What is the point of him working here if that's all he's gonna do?" Sue questioned.

"Lemme see what they can't have. They'll keep coming back if they can see him perform. You know that."

"Do you have any idea what kind of deal you're making?"

"I love him, and I will do anything for him. Even keep him to myself. Do we have a deal?"

Sue was silent for a moment, her eyes never leaving Blaine's.

"Come back in three days with the cash and I'll have a contract worked up for you to sign."

Blaine smiled from ear to ear, coming to his feet. "Thank you so much!"

"Yeah, yeah. Now get out of here. I have things to do and girls to make cry." Blaine stood and reached for Sue's head. "Not yet, Shorty. Not until the paper has been filed and I'm rolling in my wade of cash."

Retracting his hand, Blaine nods his head, bidding the ladies goodbye. Once outside, he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed the number. It rang twice before picking up.

"Hello, Ernie? Yeah, its Blaine Anderson, from Metro? Its nice to talk to you too. Look, remember that guitar you had your eye on? Well, I think I can make you a deal you just can't refuse."


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Let the drama begin!

Thank you to Bjaarcy again, for being totally awesome. I hope you all enjoy this chapter (its one of the very few "happy" chapters). Pleasure reading.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Kurt was practically bouncing in his seat as he and Blaine eat dinner. Usually, when they would go out, they'd find somewhere nice and pleasant. New Directions was always a favorite for them. Tonight was different. Tonight, Blaine had gotten them reservations at one of the nicest, and exclusive restaurant in all of New York City: Bread Stix.<p>

Kurt had his suspicious, of course. Blaine was never very good at keeping secrets, but no matter how hard Kurt tried to get him to budge, he just wouldn't slip. He said with everything going on; his new promotion and Kurt's new position at the club, they should go out and do something special. Kurt still didn't buy that, but stayed quiet and played along anyway.

When they were sat and their orders were taken, Kurt was honestly surprised by the attitude of the waiters and waitresses. There were no odd looks or rude attitudes. No one around them glared, or rolled their eyes, or said something cruel. It was like no cared if two men were on a date or eating a candle light dinner. And Kurt loved that.

"I swear, this has to be one of the most elegant places I've ever eaten in my entire life." Kurt said over dessert.

"Well, you're worth it." Blaine said, sipping his wine.

"How exactly can you afford this? Not to be rude, honey. You may make a good penny, but this place is outrageous! Eighty dollars for a medium size bread stick cheese cake. I swear, if Mercedes ever saw that, she'd throw a fit."

"Well, I wanted tonight to be special. I wanted to take you somewhere amazing, to show you how amazing you are." Reaching forward, Blaine took Kurt's hand in his. "Kurt, you are . . . magnificent. You showed me there was more to life than just working and listening to music. When I'm with you, I have _fun_! I actually live my life and not the life people wanted me to live. I never actually thought I could fall for someone like you, but I did, and I've never been happier."

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Blaine pulled out a small black velvet box, and handed it to Kurt, gesturing for him to open it.

With doing so, Kurt's breathe was taken away. Inside was a small, fourteen karat gold ring, with a vintage design and vine-like band. It was beautiful, yet elegant. Simply perfect. Kurt, whose jaw was still hanging open, looked up and down between the ring and his boyfriend.

"I know you always said gold was a tacky color, but it looks amazing on you. And when I saw this in the shop the other day . . . I just had to get it. It's a Lee Krombholz design; I know how much you love him after you saw Amanda Seyfried's necklace at the Oscars. I, uh, I wasn't ever really into promise rings growing up. I used to think they were just an extra special way to get into someone's pants. But now I see it different. Now I understand what the promise is all about."

"Blaine," He said breathlessly. "Its . . . Its beautiful. But what does this mean?"

"It means," Taking the bow, Blaine pulled the ring out, and took Kurt's left hand. "That I love you, and that even though we're young, I found the person I want to be with for the rest of my life. And I know that we're not ready right now, but when we are, when the time comes and I finally do ask you to be mine, you will be." Singling out the certain finger, Blaine slowly slid the ring on; a perfect fit.

Pulling his hand back, Kurt stared at it with watery eyes. He had never imagined something like this would happen to him. But it was. He had found his Prince Charming, and was one day going to have his fairy tale wedding, and they'd live happily ever after.

"So . . . Does your eerie silence mean a yes . . . ?" Blaine teased.

"Yes! God yes! A million times a billion times eternity!" Grabbing his boyfriend by the tie, Kurt pulled him in for a deep kiss, filled with love and tears of joy. "Oh my lord. Oooh jezz. Oh! I gotta call Rachel and tell her! And Mercedes, and Santana, and Brittany!"

Blaine laughed at his _pre-fiancé's_ joyfulness. "You can do all that later. For now, lets just pay the check and celebrate."

"Oh, you bet your biracial ass we are!" Kurt stated.

And it wasn't long until he tracked down the waitress, got the check, and had Blaine pay before he dragged him down the street, got into Blaine's car, and drove them all the way back to the apartment. Celebrating wasn't the only thing they would be doing tonight.


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N:** I got this based off Britney Spears "Gimme More". Davanan chapter, but I promise, its worth it. If you skip, you will be confused later on during the story.

So my new beta, Bjaarcy, will be going on Va-K with fam, so until she comes back, I will either be updating unbeat'ed stories, or will wait the two weeks until she returns. All I can say to that is: NO COMPLAINING.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Santana walked down the line of clients, her cowgirl boots clicking and clacking with ever step she too. She had been waiting for this night for the day five weeks, and finally it came. Movie night. Each of the girls got to pick out a scene from a movie and perform it for the audience. And while the rest were focusing more on their voices, Santana decided to let her other assets take over for the night.<p>

Santana stopped in front of him, smiling sexily. "Hiya cutie."

Dave Karofsky looked up from his colleagues, taken back by her outfit. "Howdy, cowgirl."

"Mind if a barrow you for a sec?"

"Is it gonna cost me?" Karofsky teased.

"Not if you're good." Replied Santana. Taking on last swig of his drink, he stood from his stool and followed her to the corner, so they could talk privately. "I need you to do me a favor."

"What kind of favor?"

"Tonight we gotta perform scenes from a movie and mine requires a second party. A male, to be precise."

"You want me to dance with you?" Karofsky asks.

"I'll be the only one dancing," she promises. "All you need to do is just sit there." Karofsky cocked his head to the side, putting her words together. "Ever see Death Proof?"

"_Grindhouse_!" He nearly shouted. Santana shushed him, placing her hand over his mouth. He pulled it off lightly. "You want me to sit there, while perform the lap dance from Grindhouse/Death Poof on my junk!"

Santana rolled her arms, crossing her arms over her chest. "Omigod, its not like I've never touched it before. We did sleep together, you know. And made out like . . . three times."

"Thanks for the reminder." Karofsky mumbles. "Why can't you ask one of the other clients?"

"Because, you're the only person in here I actually trust." She admitted. "And besides, you're gay, which makes it even better for me. You won't be grabbing, and pinching, and looking for more afterwards. That's just what I need!"

"And your man won't come in and sit for ya?"

"David hates this club, and he's working late. Anyway, he doesn't even know I'm doing the dance in the first place, and I'd like to keep it that way. So, are you in?"

Karofsky sighed, knowing he couldn't keep his sparkling diamond down. "Yeah, I guess I am."

Santana giggled girlishly before jumping up to kiss his cheek. "Thank you, K. I swear, you won't regret this." Santana turned to leave, but stopped. "Oh! And try not to look too disgusted. I've been told many times how nice my ass is, and having you look like you're about to vomit while its rubbing against your crotch, ain't gonna fly with me."

Karofsky burst out laughing. "I'll do my best, Tan."

Santana smiled smugly before running off to get ready.

* * *

><p>David was beat tired. No, that didn't even describe it. He felt like the walking dead. Someone who's been hit by race car. Or anything else that represent how tired and achy he was. He had been working on his latest article for the paper, and the deadline was in two days. He wanted it to be perfect; hoping this would be his front page story.<p>

But before they could do that, he remembered the day and time. Santana was getting off early tonight, and instead of having her walk home alone or take a taxi, David thought he would surprise her and take her home himself.

He gained access, thanks to Brittany, and was surrounded by darkness the moment he stepped into the club. The lights had been shut off in the crowd, while the stage lights were lit brightly, giving more attention to the performers.

A song was playing; one David had her one before in a movie. "Down In Mexico" it was called, though the performer escaped him. He tried to look for her around the bar, but he came up empty. Finding Lucy Q aka Quinn, a fellow Cheeri-Ohs! performer, he asked for Santana's location, and was pointed towards the stage.

Unfortunately, the lights were too bright, so he had to move closer. It was a horrible idea, of course. David stopped in his tracks when the vision came clear, and his mouth dropped to the floor.

Lolita . . . Santana . . . His girlfriend, was giving a lap dance to another guy. It wasn't ladies choice, he knew that much. And even if it was, it would've been Santana's turn. She wasn't due for another until the summer.

His eyes slid down her body to her hips, which were moving furiously to the music. Santana was the only person he knew whose hips could give Sharika a run for her money; oh how he loved the lights she did with those hips. Except for tonight, of course.

There was a pair of large hands on her hips, griping her. He stared gravely at the man who owned those hands. His face with filled with mix emotions, but it was no secret he was enjoying himself. He moved his shoulders, swaying to the music. The man bit his lips, pulling her closer.

And in that one, slick movement, something snapped inside David.

Not caring at all about the large audience watching, David ran up onto the stage, grabbing Santana's arm roughly, pulling her away from her little partner. She was shocked, by the, of course, stumbling over her boots, and fall to the ground.

Karofsky looked up and down between the two with confusion. "What are you doing!" He shouted over the music, though only David and Santana could hear him.

Pulling his arm back, David fired a hard punch, knocking Karofsky straight off his chair.

"David!" Santana screeched.

Turning towards her, David once again gripped her arm, pulled her to her feet, and force-walked her out of the club, ignoring her protest and pleas all the way.


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". I hope all you Klainer's out there enjoy this chapter; I worked very hard on it. By the way, remember when I had Davana have oral sex? Weeelllllll I think this chapter will be even better. M rating please! HAVE FUN!

So my new beta, Bjaarcy, will be going on Va-K with fam, so until she comes back, I will either be updating unbeat'ed stories, or will wait the two weeks until she returns. All I can say to that is: NO COMPLAINING.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Kurt huffed and puffed as he walked through the backstage of Cheeri-Ohs!, making his way to the dressing room. It wasn't the first night he had been called into work on his nights off, but it was a pain nonetheless. He had everything planned! The dinner, the movie. It was going to be a quiet night home alone (thanks to David going to Santana's for the night) with Blaine, which would hopefully would end up no to quiet as they moved on into the bedroom….<p>

Though Kurt really couldn't complain. It was almost a month since Sue gave him his new position at the club; a simply performer. He was given all the tips thrown onto the stage whenever he and the others performed, and an extra fifty from the boss lady; and all he has to do was sing and dance.

He didn't exactly understand why Sue decided to do this. Her reason was that she wanted to show the crowd what they couldn't have so they'd come back for more. Kurt didn't know if it'd work or not, but he really didn't care. It meant less time at the club and more doing whatever he wanted.

Kurt was already halfway through the door when something caught his eye. Leaning back, he cocked his head and stared.

"Dave?"

Karofsky lifted his head from his ice pack and looked Kurt's way. He was surrounded with by several performers, each either giving him a massage, filing his nails, or simply saying sweet things to make him feel better.

"Jeez, what happened? Your face looks terrible!"

Karofsky laughed bitterly. "Its nice to see you too."

"I got it from here, girls." Kurt says, taking the women's place. "Seriously, what are you doing here?"

"Me and some of my football buddies decided to swing by. Bad idea, apparently."

"That's some shiner. Who did it?"

Karofsky sighed, placing the ice pack back onto his face. "Santana's boyfriend."

Kurt's eyes opened wide in surprise. "David? What was he doing here? He hates this place."

"I don't know. Santana asked me to sit on for one of her dances . . . everything was going great. Next thing ya know he shows up on stage, hits me, and then drags her out of the club."

"I knew he was the jealous type, but _wow_. Are you alright?"

"I was a little confused and my face still kinda hurts, but its nothing compared to being tackled by a two hundred plus pound football player covered in padding and running at you with impeccable speed."

"Ahh, Dave. You were always a brave one."

"Coming from the dancing queen himself, I'll take it as a compliment."

"As you should." Kurt says, standing slowly. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I must go change." Kurt was almost to the door when Karofsky called his name, stopping him.

"He's a lucky guy." He tells him. Kurt smiles, asking who he meant. "The guy who bought you off the market." He explains. "Sylvester told me all about him. He's a high roller, but you were always worth it."

Kurt smiled, hiding his clenched teeth. "Yes. Of course."

"Well, tell him he wins. I would've loved to have ya, but it's obvious who you belong to."

"Yes. If you'll excuse me." Kurt turned and left through the exit. _Blaine Anderson_, he thought, _you are so dead_.

* * *

><p>Blaine sat on the couch, gazing boringly at the TV. He and Kurt had the entire night planned; dinner and a movie, and ending with cuddling and hopefully sex, and it was all stopped due him being called into work.<p>

Blaine wasn't normally a drama queen, but he wasn't happy.

It could've been worst, though. Kurt could be doing who knows what with some client until three am. All he really needed to do now was dress, sing and dance for a song or two, and then he was done for the evening. It was almost perfect.

There was a small hole in his heart from having to sell his guitar; it was pretty legendary. Every rocker Metro signed had played on it and even the ones that just stopped by for an interview. The amount of talent that ripped across it. . . . Blaine would move on, of course. Having Kurt all to himself permanently was worth it.

Blaine practically jumped out of his skin as the loud thud of the door slamming boomed around the room. Standing, he turned to see Kurt hanging his coat up and untwisting his scarf from his neck.

"Hey!" He says enthusiastically. "What are you doing home so early?"

Blaine began to walk toward him when Kurt put his hand out, telling him to stop. Blaine looked him up and down. _Right foot locked outward…one hand on his hip, the other doing the universal _stop_ sigh. . . . His bitch face showing…._

"What did you do?"

"What?"

"Dave Karofsky told me that someone offered Sue money so I'd no longer have to dance or do anything sexual with the clients."

"Really? That's . . . that's random."

"Cut the bull, Blaine!" Kurt ordered. Blaine stepped back, swallowing hard. _Oh shit!_ "You _bought_ me? How could you! This entire time we've been together, you've been preaching about how you didn't want to pay for me . . . be another client. And then you go and do this! What is wrong with you!"

"I can explain!" Blaine offered quickly, his hands out in front of him.

"Well do it fast!" Blaine's mind froze, trying to think of something. He didn't want to piss Kurt off even more, but he didn't want to lie. "I'm _waiting_!" Kurt said sharply.

"Okay!" He half shouted. "Santana told me how much that Karofsky guy wanted to buy you for the night; how he was gonna pay like . . . Three times the normal rate."

"I don't do that anymore, Blaine!" Kurt yelled. "You of all people should know that!"

"I do! I do know that! But Santana kept going on and on about how much he liked you, and how he'd stop at nothing to have you, and how Sue would probably force you, and then she said how good the money could be for us, so you'd probably wanna do it and I just . . . I fucked up! Okay! I'm sorry!"

"How much?" Asked Kurt. "How much did you pay?"

"Tw-twenty-five grand." Blaine stutters.

"How the hell can you afford that?" Kurt questioned, and then he it hits him. Rushing to the bedroom, Kurt looks around, but comes up empty. "Where is your guitar?" Blaine remained silent. "Blaine, where is your guitar?"

Blaine hesitated, but finally answered the question. "It was the only way." He admitted quietly.

Kurt sighed, putting his hands through his hair. "How could you? _How could you_? That guitar was like your child!"

"I don't care!" Blaine shouted then. "I don't care if I had to sell the clothes on my back. I know what I did was dumb, but I'd do it again and again if I had to! I'm sick of being jealous and I'm sick of thinking I'm going to lose you; though I know it will never happen. So go ahead. Yell at me. Call me stupid. Call me every name in the book; I don't care. Because I love you! And you're mine. And that's that."

They stared at each other in silence for a long moment before either made any movement. Kurt walked towards him, his face expressionless. Blaine swore he was either gonna punch him or yell at him and break up with him, because that was a pussy move. Blaine waited and waited, but Kurt said nothing. Instead, he grabbed Blaine's face, pulling him close, and kissed him hard. Blaine almost stumbled back due to the surprise, but he held his ground; wrapping his arms around Kurt, deepening the kiss.

"Bedroom!" Kurt ordered, breaking the kiss momentarily.

Neither waiting another second. They pushed and shuffled their way to their room; their clothes dropping like flies along the way. Kurt tossed Blaine onto the bed, standing menacingly above him.

"You want me?" He questioned darkly. Blaine nods fiercely. "You'll be screaming my name before the night ends." Kurt tells him, just before pouncing.

Blaine didn't have time to responded. Kurt was on his body, licking and sucking like a leech sucking for blood. Blaine moaned, loving the feeling. Something about Kurt's lips on his body drove him beyond bonkers.

And then Kurt went lower and lower.

"Well, look what we have here?" He mused, running his fingers down Blaine's boxer covered shaft. "Already hard for me, Blainy?"

"Y-yes!" Blaine said. "All for you. T-touch it again!"

"Ooh I'm gonna touch it. Touch and suck . . . Make you cum like never before. Ya like that idea, Blaine?"

"Yes! Yes I do! Holy shit!" Blaine nearly went limp as Kurt removed his boxers, freeing his already leaking cock.

Leaning down, Kurt ran his lips over the tip, glossing his lips with the white goo. "Hmm," he hummed, licking his lips. "Should I continue B?" He asks, running his hand up and down slowly.

"Please! Please baby!"

"I'm sorry, who?"

"Kurt! Fuck Kurt, please suck me!" Blaine shouted.

"Well, if you insist."

Blaine's eyes nearly popped out of his head as Kurt took him deep. Blow jobs from Kurt were usually slow and easy, yet extremely enjoyable. Tonight was different. Kurt was bobbing his head quickly, taking him as deep as possible. And for the small part he couldn't force down he used his hand. Another thing he did was play with Blaine's sack. Blaine wasn't really a ball person, but this just felt _fantastic_!

A few minutes of his, plus the noises Kurt made while doing it, and Blaine was gonna be done. Kurt must've sensed that, because he popped off, licking his lips as he breathed deeply.

"On your knees." He ordered, and Blaine, of course, did as told.

This wasn't a new position for them, though both admitted to prefer being on their backs if they were the bottom. It was more romantic and best for kissing. Tonight wasn't about romance. No, tonight was gonna be a fuck. A raw hard fuck that would leave both of them tired and fucked out.

"Lube . . . Or spit?" Kurt muses slowly, driving Blaine up the wall.

"Spit! Spit, spit, spit!" He chanted.

"Hey!" Kurt smacked his behind, causing Blaine to yelp with pleasure. "Silence! You don't get to scream until my dick is in your ass, got it!" Spitting into his hand, Kurt rubbed it along his cock, getting it nice and wet.

Any other day, he'd use lube and get Blaine all prepared, but he was sure neither of them needed it, and his dick was already hard and was almost hurting, so it was hell to preparing and lube and yes to going in hard. Condoms were not an option tonight!

Leaning forward, Kurt pushed in slowly, smirking at the sound of Blaine's moan as the tip slowly went in. Biting his lip, Kurt took hold of Blaine's hips and, as much strength as he had, slammed in.

Blaine screamed and shuddered forward, breathing deeply. There was a tight, hot pain, but he ignored it. The pleasure was taking over quickly, and _dear god_, that felt good! Kurt went slow, then gained speed, teasing Blaine. Needing to feel that piercing feeling again, Blaine moved with him, pushing against him, meeting each of Kurt's thrust with one of his own.

"Fuck, baby. Shit!" Blaine moaned, gripping the sheets.

Reaching forward, Kurt took hold of Blaine's cock and bumped it hard. It was no secret tonight wasn't going to last long, but by God, Kurt was gonna get the most out of it. Kurt moaned loud, moving faster.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Kurt…God baby!"

"Say it!" Kurt ordered between gritted teeth. "Say it loud!"

"Kurt! Fuck! Kurt…I'm gonna!"

"Say. It. Loud." Kurt smacked Blaine's ass, gripping the cheek hard.

"Kurt!" He screamed, pushing back hard.

Kurt moved faster, feeling himself getting close. He was gonna cum, but not yet. He had to say it. He had to scream it loud; enough for the entire neighborhood to hear. The bed was creaking now; shaking from their thrusting.

Leaning forward, Kurt whispered in Blaine's ear, squeezing his cock hard. "Say it."

"_KURT!_" Blaine cried, cumming into his hand. That's all it took and Kurt was finished. Cumming hard, Kurt collapsed onto Blaine's back, crushing Blaine into the bed.

They lied their panting, trying to recover from what just happened. Taking Kurt's hand, Blaine linked their fingers together.

"I love you." He sighed.

"Same here, babe." Kurt panted, kissing his head before lying back and closing his eyes; allowing sleep to take him over.


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". I believe all the Davana!haters will be happy with this chapter. I worked hard on it, and even though its not exactly what I pictured, I'm pretty happy with it. Enjoy!

So my new beta, Bjaarcy, will be going on Va-K with fam, so until she comes back, I will either be updating unbeat'ed stories, or will wait the two weeks until she returns. All I can say to that is: NO COMPLAINING.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Santana's wrist was practically numb when David shoved her into her apartment. They speed-walked the twenty blocks from the club, David practically dragging her the entire way. She tried to stop him of course; begging and pulling an option him. He wasn't letting her go until they were locked away where no one could see them or stop their argument.<p>

Grabbing hold of her red and throbbing wrist, Santana turned towards her boyfriend. "What the hell is your problem!" She half shouted.

David looked at her with black eyes. Santana has seen him upset before, but nothing like this. From the light of the moon coming in from the windows, she could partly see his face. It didn't look like the David she knew. This one seemed dark and menacing; almost frightening.

"What the hell were you doing up there, Santana?" He demanded.

"I was dancing, David. Just like I do every night!"

"Not with another guy!" He yelled. "Who is he?"

Santana scampered for answers. "He's just a friend of mine!"

David laughed bitterly. "Ooh, a _friend_, huh?"

"Not like that and you know it!" Santana stated. "Look, it was movie night and he was doing me a favor. It meant nothing."

"Really? You just happened to pick a movie that involves a lap dance. Oh your "friend" seemed to enjoy."

"As for Kay enjoying it: that's high unlikely. And yes, I did pick one with a lap dance. Death Proof. It was simply and fun, and the crowd loved it."

"Yeah. The crowd filled with horny men were going bonkers over it. I, on the other hand, was not."

"What were you even doing there?" Santana asked at last.

"I came to pick you up," David admits. "I was gonna pick you up and take you home so you wouldn't have to go alone; but instead of doing that I go in and find _that_."

Santana stepped closer, reaching for his hand. "David, please. It meant nothing. Kay is-"

"I don't care who he is!" David pulled away roughly. "And it _did_ mean something, Santana. It meant something to me!"

"What do you want me to say, David?" Santana sighs. It wasn't the first time something like this has happened, but this was definitely the biggest it's ever been blown out of proportion.

"There's nothing to say, Santana."

"Look, what do you want me to do? Apologize because you saw something you shouldn't have? Get Karofsky come over and explain the situation?"

"I want you to quit." He tells her. "I want you to quit this stupid job once and for all. That will solve all our problems."

"I can't and you know that. Its my _job_!"

"There are plenty more jobs out there, Santana. Many of them not dealing with having sex with random people and doing lap dances for extra cash."

Santana sighed, leaning against the back of the couch, her fingers slowly rubbing circles around her temples.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? You saw something you weren't supposed to even know about, and I am sorry for that. I'm also sorry I didn't tell you, but I know how you feel about the club and I didn't want to upset you, like you are now. Look, I'll bring Karofsky over, you can meet him and you can have a talk. He'll show that he's no threat. Okay? Is that good?"

David, whose back was facing his girlfriend, twisted his hands around the back of one of the wooden kitchen chairs, as if he were trying to imprint on it or even break the wood.

"No, Santana." He answered gravely. "That's not good. And it's not enough." He turned then, his expression breaking. "Can't you see what this job does to me? I stay up night after night, either pacing your floor or waiting for you to call me, to make sure you make it home alright. And while I'm doing that, I have to wonder who you're with; how much you're selling yourself for. Think of all the things we do together and how you're doing it with someone else. Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

"David you are blowing this all out of pro-"

"No! You don't know what it's like!" David shouted, cutting her off. Santana stepped back, shocked by his outburst. "You don't know what its like to have someone you care for so deeply, hurt you so badly. To have them burn you the worst way possible. To make them feel like you're not enough."

Except for his harsh breathing, the room was an eerie silent for a long while. When Santana finally spoke, it was quiet; almost a whisper.

"You _are_ enough."

Hearing this, David come closer, inches away from her in fact. "Then why are you doing this? To me and to us. Dammit, Santana, I _love_ you! And I know you love me back."

Santana stared at him in a blank stare, only to break it and look to the ground. "I never said that."

"But you do!" David jumped, grabbing hold of Santana's shoulders. "I know you do. I can feel it! We share something no one else could ever understand. Just say it, please."

Santana refused to look at him. She shook her head slowly, keeping her eyes on the ground.

"Santana, please. I know you feel it. You feel it just like I do! Say it!"

Her eyes were closed now, trying to keep her tears from shedding. She shook her head faster, murmuring protest the entire time.

"Say it!" David shouted, physically shaking her; his fingers digging into her skin. "Say it, dammit! Say it!"

"No, no, no, no." Santana whisper-cried. "I can't."

David released her from his grip, slowly walking backwards away from her. Santana lifted her head, her tear stained cheeks turning red.

"I'm so sorry." She began, but David stopped her.

"Save it." He deadpanned. "I can't do this anymore, Santana." Her eyes widened at his words, but her voice got stuck in her throat. "Not if it's for nothing."

Santana watched helplessly as her boyfriend - or ex-boyfriend as it seemed - picked up his keys from the table and placed them in his jacket pocket as he walked towards the door. He was halfway out when he stopped and turned back. He looked at her for a long moment, though he said nothing 'til the end.

"Goodbye, Santana." He gulped before walking out the door - and Santana's life - forever.

Santana stared at the door for a long period of time before a thought came to her mind. She and David were over. And there was nothing she could say or do about it.


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". 40 chapters. Ugh, I hate how everytime I write something, it has to be long! Never just a two or three shot. Either one shot or something extreamly long. I hope you enjoy this chapters. Fluffy Klaine!

So my new beta, Bjaarcy, will be going on Va-K with fam, so until she comes back, I will either be updating unbeat'ed stories, or will wait the two weeks until she returns. All I can say to that is: NO COMPLAINING.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Blaine Anderson had never been a needy person. He never wanted for more than he was given. He worked for everything life passed onto him; being the leader of his school's Glee club; his college scholarships; his job at Metro. He didn't get it by a snap of the fingers, like the rest of his family, nor did his use his looks or voice or even brains to get ahead; at least not when it wasn't necessary. No, Blaine worked for what he wanted, and continued to work for it until it was hid.<p>

He had many accomplishes in his life, but he could honestly say that being here, in this bed, naked, and tired, and hopelessly in love with the man beside him, was definitely the best of all. He couldn't explain it . . . there was just something about him . . . something that moved him. Blaine loved Kurt. He loved everything about him. The way laughed and sang; the way he walked and danced. How, no matter how hard he tried to keep his hair in perfect condition, there's always be on strand or two out of place. He loved him whether he were happy or angry or any other feeling that angelic creature could feel.

And he made Blaine feel. He was never jealous before Kurt. And to tell the truth, Blaine never wanted a person the way Blaine wanted Kurt. Not just to have him for sex or to show him around, but for the moments like this. Blissful, and peaceful, and perfect.

Blaine didn't know if he could live without this feeling, and was very, very sure he had no intention of doing so.

"Where are you goooooooing?" He groaned childishly as Kurt got out of bed. "Come baaaaaaaaaaack!"

Kurt giggled softly, heading over to his dresser to pick out a clean pair of boxers, slipping them on quickly. "It's almost two in the afternoon! You didn't expect to stay in bed all day did you?"

Blaine thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, kinda." Kurt smiled, heading to the clothes. "Seriously, can you in angry and in charge more often? That was amazing."

Kurt turned and glared. "You don't want to mess with my bitch side." Pulling out a plain black tee and skinny jeans, Kurt dressed quickly and then plopped down onto the bed, causing a tired "oof!" to escape from his boyfriend/pre-fiancé. "I have to go speak to Sue before the club opens."

"But now? Can't you do it later? Or tomorrow? Just stay, please?"

"You're almost too hard to resist." Kurt murmured, his mouth hovering over Blaine's.

"Then don't! I can make it worth your while." Blaine pulled Kurt closer, but Kurt pushed away.

"Its _always_ worth my while. Need I remind you there would be no need to go if it weren't for the stunt you pulled!"

"I did that out of sheer love and you know that!"

"Yes, I do. And if it's even possible to love you even more than I already do, then I do. But I still have to talk about her calling it off, and to see if she found my replacement yet."

"Replacement?" Blaine mimicked.

"Yeah, you see, after that romantic night at the restaurant, where you pretty much pre-proposed, I went to Sue the next day giving her my two-weeks notice."

"Y-you . . . you quit?"

"The moment they find another male lead, I'm out of there."

Blaine stayed silent for a moment, thinking. Kurt quit. He quit Cherri-Ohs! And once a replacement was found, he would never have to step foot into that God forsaken musical cat house ever again. "But . . . why?"

Kurt smiled softly, his fingers grazing softly up and down Blaine's cheek. "Because, silly, we're gonna have a life of our own soon; and _life of our own_ doesn't involve me working in a place like that."

"You love it."

"I love what it gave me. An opportunity to sing, and dance, and perform with my friends. To meet all different people and to be young, and live in the night life of New York City. And most of all, it gave me you. And now, it's giving me a choice, and I'm choosing to leave; as all the great ones do. Do you really think Dorothy stayed in Kansas after that dream? Or Audrey continued to eat at Tiffany's? Now it's my turn to move on."

Blaine sighed, staring dreamingly up the flawless man before him. "I love you. I am so . . . in love with you."

Kurt leaned close, their lips inches apart. "Some here handsome." Not being able to hold on any longer, Kurt let their lips touch, smiling happily into the kiss.


	41. Chapter 41

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". Klaine interaction with Santana and David, and how they're dealing with the break up. I hope you enjoy it; especially the Klaine, seeing as it's the last chaping featuring a happy!Klaine ;D. Ennnnnnjoy!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>"Everything's in the box and bags, feel free to kick it around before giving it back to him."<p>

Santana plopped down onto the couch as she lazily filed her nails. She called Kurt earlier this morning asking for a favor, and Kurt, who just found out about her and David's break up an hour before she called, thanks to Blaine, rushed right over. Of course, he expected it to be something rash. A sexy-guy movie marathon, some ice cream to scarf down, and maybe a shoulder to cry on. Instead Santana opened the door, looking as gorgeous as she always did, and asked Kurt if he could kindly (though not kindly) give David his things back.

"This is all of it?" Kurt questioned, glancing down at the two paper bags and one cardboard box sitting on the floor against the wall. "You've been broken up for three days and you've already packed up his things?"

Santana shrugged. "Might as well get it over with. I mean, I'm gonna be busy all next week at the club so we can break the new guy in; that is, whenever he shows up. Besides, there really isn't that much. Just junk lying around."

"Santana, this entire bag is full of jewelry!" Kurt lifted the bag to test the weight. "It weights a ton! Its gonna break the bag; jeez, how much did he buy for you!"

"Irrelevant. Just get it out of my sight."

Looking through the other bag, Kurt found several dresses and skirts; more things David had brought for Santana.

"So, Blaine says the entire break up is based off of you not wanting to stop doing anything sexual at the club. Care to elaborate?"

Rolling her eyes, Santana got up from her seat and went to the kitchen, where she picked up her glass of wine, swirling it boringly. "What can I say? I have needs and David didn't wanna play the game anymore. I expected this for a while; I'm honestly surprised we lasted this long."

Kurt stared at his friend, trying to find some speck of sadness or regret. He saw nothing but boredom and annoyance. "You were together for almost a year. How are you not crying your eyes out or breaking anything? You act like you don't even care."

"To be perfectly honest Kurt, I don't. David was great. He was funny, and sweet, and the sex was incredible. But as I said from the beginning: I wasn't looking for a boyfriend or someone to spend the rest of my life with. I wanted to have fun. And so did David, up until a couple days ago. Will I miss him? Sure. But we gotta move on. I mean, what else is there to do? Get married and have tons of little brats to run around the house? Yeah, right." Santana sipped down her wine, and then turned to place the glass into the sink. "It's better this way, Kurt." She added. "Trust me."

Having nothing left to see nor say, Kurt took hold of box and bags and left the apartment.

* * *

><p>On the fourth day of their break up, David was finally seen around the apartment. He Didn't stay long; he was caught up with writing and working at the office (he had been staying there during the nights), and he merely stopped by to pick up his laptop.<p>

"Hey, David." Blaine eased.

"Hey, man." A simple reply.

Blaine looked to Kurt, who urged him to continue talking. "Sooo, how's writing coming along?"

"Huh? Oh! It's great. I think I'm finally on to something."

"Really? Care to give us a little sneak peak?"

"I'd love to, but you know, top secret. I just came to get my computer and bring it back to the office."

"Spending the night again?" Kurt piped in.

"Yeah. I hate nights like these, but it's easier to get it together there, and if I keep going, I can have it in by the end of the week and published by Monday morning." Going in and out of his room in a flash, David tossed his case over his shoulder and headed for the door. "I'll see you guys later."

David was out with a slam of the door before either men could give their goodbyes. Both Kurt and Blaine remained silent for several minutes, thinking everything over.

"So . . . neither of them are really reacting over the break up." Blaine stated. "Santana is basically uncaring towards the whole thing."

"And David's only thought is about writing."

The men looked at each other. "Weirdest. Couple. Ever." They said in unison.

"Such a shame though," Blaine sighed. "They seemed so happy."

"They usually do on the outside. But Santana had his stuff packed within three days of the break up. When Finn and Rachel first broken up, it took almost every Judy Garland and Barbra Streisand film before she could even find a box to put all his things in."

"Some people are different I guess. I mean, David hasn't touched a thing, so we know he hasn't been packing. It's like he doesn't even care if she gets her stuff or not."

"Whatever is going on with these two, it just doesn't seem right. This isn't normal break up behavior. I mean, even if you hate the person your with, you're gonna have some kind of reaction. But with them . . . it's like nothing."

Taking Blaine's hand, Kurt smiled hopefully. "Hey, let's not fret over this, alright? How about some hot chocolate."

"That sounds delightful." Blaine answered cheerfully, following Kurt back into the kitchen.


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". Three chapters until the fairytale comes to an end. Enjoy.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Santana sighed tiredly, rubbing small circles against her temples, trying to relax. They had been there for hours, trying to get the dance down before Saturday night's opening. For a normal performance, it took them a day or two, depending upon costumes they'd be wearing and stunts they'd be doing. But this performance was going to be bigger and better than any other. At least, that's what Sue and Kurt's replacement promised.<p>

They've replaced dancers before, but this different. It wasn't just some pretty fact that entertained the clients while real performers were away on business. This was Kurt they were replacing. One of the golden three! Even Santana had to admit it was heartbreaking.

But, as greats always say, the show must go on. And it would go on; with a bang, if Sue had anything to do with it. She searched high and low for someone to take Kurt's place, and finally, when she was about to lose hope, he appeared. Good looking, talented. She could practically smell the sex appeal on him; though she was sure it was just his hair spray.

Yes, Jesse St. James was exactly what Cheeri-Oh's! needed.

Santana, on the other hand, begged to differ. Yes, he was attractive and his voice was phenomenal, but something about him just rubbed her the wrong way. He was bitchy and arrogant, and treated the other performers like they were less than he. Even Santana and Brittany, who were the stars of the entire place!

"Alright! Let's do it again!" He ordered, causing many to groan.

"We already did it fourteen times; we're tired." Brittany said innocently.

Jesse turned towards her, his eyes glassy with annoyance. "Did anyone ask you if you were tired? Or how many times we did it? No, Blondie, so I advise you to keep that pretty mouth shut and just dance. Go it?"

Santana shot up automatically, making a beeline for the brunette. "Listen," she stopped in front, tying her arms around her chest. "I don't what it was like at the last place you worked, but around here, you don't like to people like that. And Britt is right, we already did it fourteen times in less than three hours. We're exhausted and need time to relax."

"First off, lower the testosterone, you're looking a little man-ish, and that's not very attractive." Santana's jaw dropped, her eyes widening. "Also, my last job, was nothing like this. Because there, people knew their place. The dancers danced and the singers sang; there was no in between. So excuse me if I don't work well with back talk. You wanna relax? Do it on your own time."

"In case you've forgotten, _I'm_ still the headliner for Friday, which means I'm the one in the spotlight. I already got the moves and the song down, so why the hell are you driving us insane?"

"Because performing is for the insane, Ms. Lolita. You may think you've got it down, but even one itty bitty slip up could cost us everything. So we're gonna do it again. And again, and again, and again, until we break our bones after slipping on our own sweat and the performance is engraved is your tiny cerebellum. Any complaints?" The room was silent, everyone glancing everywhere but north, away from him. "I suggest you go take your place."

Santana bit down hard, her eyes glazing. She hated this. Truly, truly hated this . . . But there was nothing she could do. Cracking her neck, she reluctantly took her place in the center.


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". Correction. This is the final chapter before everything comes together. I hope you enjoy!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>David smiled at his computer, feeling mighty proud of himself. It took him a while, but he finally found the inspiration he was waiting for, and ran with it. Writing was basically all he did nowadays. Write, eat, and sleep. It took him longer than he thought, but time merely helped his cause. The more time he spent, the deeper and more passionate the article became. He was just about finished, just a few more sentences, and then he was done for good, and straight to his boss it went.<p>

He knew it was good; forget that, the article was great. Definitely one of the best he's ever written, and his boss will see that. All he needed was a simple yes and off to the printer it will go.

Hearing the keys in the door, David pressed _save_ and closed his laptop, just as Blaine was entering the apartment.

"Hey!" Placing the computer on the coffee table, David leaned back on the couch, smiling up at his friend.

"Hey! How's the article going?" Blaine questioned, placing the brown grocery bags onto the island.

"Almost near perfection, my friend. Just got a few more things I need to add, then its finished for good!"

"Alright, man! I knew you had it in you."

"Yeah, it just took me too long. Ah, who cares! My time has come and I _will_ shine!" Standing from the couch, David helped Blaine unpack the food and place it in the fridge. "So, anything going on with you and Kurt tonight?"

"Nah. Wednesday night was his final night at the club, so he's going down to say goodbye and check out the new guy." Blaine waited several moments before bringing it up. "So . . . have you been down there at all?"

"No." David answered shortly. "Have you?"

"No." Blaine replied. Part of him felt bad for that; he knew hearing about Kurt quitting hurt David. He was happy for Blaine, but the pain was still there.

"Well, me either." David said. "And I have no real intention to."

Blaine stayed quiet, turning a box of spaghetti around in his hands. "Sooo . . . you haven't seen her then?"

David looked up, his expression unpleased. "Blaine," he breathed warningly. David wasn't one to get angry easily, but once he was, it wasn't a pretty picture.

"I was just asking." Blaine placed the box on the counter and raised his hands, showing no threat.

"Well allow me to answer: I have no seen Santana, nor spoken to her, since that night."

"But surely you've been thinking about her."

David sighed, turning to look at his friend. "Alright, Blaine, spit it out. Why do you keep asking me about her?"

Blaine shrugged, before walking to the island and leant against it. "I don't know. I just find it kind of strange, you know? It's like either of you care."

"We care, Blaine. At least I do. But I'm trying to move on."

"Have you even looked through the things Santana gave Kurt?" Blaine asked, nodding towards the corner where the bangs and boxes remained for several weeks.

David looked at the corner for a long moment, and then turned away. "I've been working my ass off and you know that. I don't have time to be going through old memories."

"I just-"

"Don't, Blaine." David broke in. "Don't think and don't worry. I'm sorry I'm not acting like a fifteen year old girl; crying my eyes out and eating my weight in chocolate, because Santana and I didn't work out. I'm an adult; I'm almost thirty. Just because some girl didn't want me, doesn't mean I'm gonna let it take over my life."

Picking up his computer and jacket, David headed towards the door. "I'm going to the office, I'll see you later. Tell Kurt I said to have fun tonight." And with that, David was gone, leaving Blaine alone in the apartment.


	44. Chapter 44

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". Today is the day! I've been waiting for this moment for a very long time. This chapter took a lot of effort to write; I wanted to get every scene, both Santana's and Kurt's right. I hope you enjoy it. I got the idea for Kurt's scene from Creed's Wash Away Those Years, mixed with "ET" by Katy Perry. I suggest you listen to "ET" while you read it; it will make it a lot more intresting. I would like to thank IceQueenRia for Jesse's performer name. Anything, I'm gonna shut up and let you get on with it.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Saying goodbye was never a joyous thing. Maybe it was for the better, maybe for the worst. Either way, it was a painful thing to do. Kurt couldn't remember when he first started to cry. Maybe it was when he was backstage with the performers, or maybe he was alone with Santana and Brittany, or maybe it was when he walked through the door, knowing it would be one of his very last times doing so.<p>

Brittany was the worst. She was weepy and depressed, like a lost puppy. You'd never think she was the best dancer in the whole place. Kurt kept her close, his arm around her waist.

"I just can't believe its over," She sniffed, wiping away her tears.

"Oh! Sweetie, you're still gonna see me! We may not been performing together, but we're still gonna hang out and spend time together."

"Yeah, Britts. Just because Kurt walked away from the job he's had for years, doesn't mean he's gonna walk away from us."

Kurt glared at Santana from the other side of the dressing room. She was leaning against her make-up desk, filing her nails. Kurt could practically taste the bitterness in her voice when she spoke, though he knew she wasn't angry.

"We're a family." He said sternly, embracing the blonde beside him. Santana looked her; a sarcastic look across her face. "And always will be; no matter what."

"Well, isn't this sweet!" The three turned towards the door, finding Jesse standing in the doorway.

"Do you mind? This is private." Santana said rudely.

Jesse smiled, entering the room anyway. "Saying goodbye? How touching." Stopping in front of Kurt, Jesse held his hand out. "Jesse St. James. Also know as Mercury."

"Mercury?" Kurt mimicked.

"A blessing to the late and great Freddie. Some say our voices sound alike."

"Is that true?" Kurt muttered, pulling his hand from Jesse's grasp. "If you'll excuse,"

Jesse winced, biting his lip. "I'd love to, but we really need to get ready for the show."

"Oh. I guess I better head out then."

"Kurt, you don't have to listen to him." Santana stepped up.

"Seriously, San, its fine. I gotta head home anyway."

"You're not gonna stay for the show?" Brittany asked.

"Oh, please, do!" Jesse said, watching his expression in the mirror. "It would be such a great way to end your night here."

"I will, but just for a little while." Pulling the girls close, Kurt kissed their cheeks soundly. "Be great out there." He told them before leaving the room.

Jesse turned around, his face filled with annoyance. "Hello? Are you gonna just stand there or get changed?"

Santana scowled at Jesse, but did as he ordered.

* * *

><p>For the first time, Santana wished she didn't look as sexy as she did. Leather had never been her friend. It was tight and felt horrible when she sweat, and it was impossible not to sweat during her job. Her "ET" costume was a small leather bra, where it went down her back in the shape of a long X until it ended as a small skirt. Her hair was in a tight ponytail, and she was to wear heavy, mental handcuffs.<p>

The scene was meant for Santana to be a human sex slave to Jesse, and Brittany and the other dancers were all his minions. Brittany thought it was cool, but Santana on the other hand found it stupid; like a plot out of a bad porno or something.

"God, I can't wait for the night to be over." She said aloud as she put on the finishing touches to her outfit.

"Just don't forget any of your parts." Jesse replied curtly.

Santana turned to him, her mind wheeling. "Seriously, what is your prob?"

"Excuse me?"

"You have been a giant D-bag since the moment you walked in here. Now look, I get that you're hot, and talented, and people wanna fuck you, but we work together here. There's no room for a diva."

As the rest of the performers stayed silent, Jesse laughed bitterly. "That's where you're wrong. Yes, you all are very good at what you do, but there only reason you've never had a diva issues, is because none of you have the drive to be one. Unlike me, who is a _real_ performer, you're all just sluts that can sing."

"_Por qué usted mal basterd poco_!" Santana lunged forward, forcing two of the male dancers to pull her back.

"I speak Americano, thank you. Unless you're going to mow my lawn, which is highly unlikely seeing as we're in New York City, I suggest you stick to English."

"You're not even the headliner!" Santana screamed. "_I'm_ the one they're all coming to see!"

Jesse smiled menacingly. "For now." Looking around, he caught the eyes of many of the performers. "I also suggest you stay quiet and learn your place here, because like it or not, you need me. And I will have your job."

Santana continued to fume, though she remained silent. Part of her wanted to go all Lima Heights Adjacent on his prick ass, but she knew she couldn't.

"Good girl. Anyone else? No? Perfect. Now lets get the show on the road so I can be bought by all the Richie's in the place."

"Is he even gay?" Brittany asked around.

"Whenever, whatever." Jesse answered before leaving.

"Remind me to hide the broom sticks." Santana murmured, following shortly behind.

* * *

><p>It was the first time since before he got hired that Kurt sat in the audience of the club. He was excited of course. There was something magical about watching a performance on stage, and having the performers being his closest friends was an even better kick.<p>

Snuggling back into his seat, Kurt watched as the lights went off and the music began. The spotlight stopped at the far right, causing Mercury, clad in a black vest and match skinny jeans, and body glitter to shine.

"_I got a dirty mind; I got filthy ways. I'm tryna Bath my Ape in your Milky Way. I'm a legend, I'm irreverent. I be reverand. I be so fa-a-ar up, we don't give a f-f-f-f-uck._"

Kurt rolled his eyes droll fully as the female clients swooned and cheered as Mercury walked around stage, doing his best to over-shadow Kanye's stupid lyrics with his sex appeal. Finally, another light flashed onto the middle of the stage, revealing Lita. Her arms and legs were chained in the middle of a small arch way, forcing her body into the shape of an X; reminding Kurt of a scene from King Kong. Unlike the dancers, who were covered in head to two in purple and blue make-up, and wore white outfits, Lita was clad in all black.

Her voice was perfect for the song, just as Kurt figured when they first announced it. As the performance went on, a small pain in Kurt's chest began to grow, and Kurt couldn't take it any longer. Getting up from his seat, Kurt headed out the back door. Azimio wasn't at his post, but seeing as it was opening night for Mercury, he was probably up front watching.

Shrugging his shoulders, Kurt left the club for the final time.

* * *

><p>"<em>They say be afraid. You're not like the others; futuristic lover.. Dif-ferent D-N-A. They don't understand you. Your from a whole other world; a different dimension. You open my eyes, and I'm ready to go; lead me into the light<em>!"

Having freed from her chains, Santana stood in the lead as she danced with the others. The moves were simple; a couple of twist and turns. The main point was for her show off her body, and make it look like she were worth kidnapping.

"_Take me, ta-ta-take me. Wanna be a victim; ready for abduction. Boy, you're an alien. Your touch so foreign. It's supernatural. Ex-tra-ter-res-trial_."

* * *

><p>Kurt could hear the music booming as he walked down the alleyway; his hands shoved tightly in his pockets. Even with the light of the city, it was nearly pitch black, which made it impossible to see the group of men standing at the opening.<p>

"Well, well, looky who we have here? One of the pretty little dancers?" Kurt stopped at the sound of their voices, keeping his head down low. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Don't wanna dance for us?" He was used to jerky New Yorkers at this point, so Kurt just kept walking. "Hey! I'm talkin to you!"

One of the men grabbed at Kurt as he walked past, but Kurt pushed away. "Get off!" He shouted, stunning the three.

"Fuck, bro! It's a guy!"

The leader, dressed in an ugly blue jacket, Jets jersey, dirty jeans, and Met's hat, stepped forward. He over looked Kurt's outfit; long beige jacket, skinny jeans, and designer boots. "Looks like we gots ourselves a queer here, boys." Kurt's eyes widened as the other two stepped forward. "And you know how we feel about queers."

* * *

><p>"<em>Your from a whole other world. A different dimension. You open my eyes, and I'm ready to go; lead me into the light." <em>

Two of the male dancers grabbed hold of Santana's arms, yanking her back and forth, before another grabbed her from behind, lifting her up into the air and carrying her to Mercury's "love nest" where she was to wait. The minions tossed her into her gate, keeping her captive. "_Kiss me, ki-ki-kiss me. Infect me with your love, and fill me with your poison! Take me, ta-ta-take me. Wanna be a victim; ready for abduction. Boy, you're an alien. Your touch so foreign. It's supernatural. Ex-tra-ter-res-trial_."

* * *

><p>Kurt turned down the alley and ran towards the door, hoping to get back into the club, but the men were too fast for him. Grabbing hold of his arms, the two pulled him forward, and held him still so the leader could smash his fist into his stomach. Kurt groaned from the pain as the two holding him hollered with laughter. Slamming him into the concrete wall, they got a yelp out of him.<p>

"Problem, faggot?" The leader asked uncaringly, before elbowing him in the back, pushing him down to his knees. "Look, boys! His favorite position!"

"Nah, his ass isn't getting pounded; can't be his favorite!"

Gripping his hair, the leader pulled Kurt's head back to look at him. "You wanna suck my cock, fairy boy? Bet you'd like it."

"Go to hell!" Kurt yelled, thrashing his arms, hoping to break loose.

"I'd keep that pretty mouth shut if I were you." The leader warned. Leaning forward, Kurt spin in his face. Wiping it away, Leader cracked his knuckles. "Now hold still so you can kiss my fist!"

* * *

><p>Santana started up in horror was Jesse returned, and slammed the gate open. Grabbing her by the ponytail, he dragged her out and threw her onto the ground in front of him.<p>

"_Pockets on Shrek; rockets on deck. Tell me what's next, alien sex. I'ma disrobe you, than I'mma probe you. See I abducted you, so I tell ya what to do; I tell ya what to do; what to do; what to do_!"

* * *

><p>Kurt moaned and groaned, trying to block every kick that came with his arms. By this point, he could barely think of anything else, but the pain. They had kick and punched him until he could no longer stand. With every motion he made, they stopped it by forcing more and more weight into him. All while calling him name after name, and laughing with joy at his pain.<p>

The strangest notion was that their beatings almost seemed to go in sync with the beat of the music, or maybe it was just Kurt's delusional mind trying to stay with him.

Kurt remained still as he did everything possible to keep his eyes open. His body was raw from the beating and he was bleeding in multiple places. They had ripped his clothes, taunting him for his fashion. They continued to do so, but he was barely there anymore.

"Come on, anymore he'll be dead." One of the minions stated.

"Like that's a bad thing?" The other laughed.

One of thing, Kurt didn't see who, kicked him again in the leg, and Kurt cried out in pain. They men laughed like hyenas at that.

"Come on, boys. This fag is finished." Leader said. Stepping back, he kicked Kurt hard in the face, and spit on him before leaving the alleyway.

* * *

><p>Jesse had Santana kneeling to the audience now, her arms tied above her head with the rope he had used to drag her across the stage. The lights were slowly to blur out, though Santana blamed that on the sweat, when she knew it fact it was from the tears beginning to form in the corner of her eyes. This wasn't what she sighed up for all those years ago, and now, she was beginning to wonder what she had gotten herself into.<p>

"_There is this transcendental, on another level. Boy, you're my lucky star. I wanna walk on your wave length, and be there when you vibrate; for you I risk it all_." She whispery sang. She wasn't meant to sing this part, but it was her favorite throughout the entire song, and she just had to sing it. To her, it was like saying goodbye. Saying goodbye to all that was good in her life.

"_Kiss me, k-k-kiss me. Infect me with your love, and fill me with your poison. Take me, t-t-take me. Wanna be your victim, ready for abduction_."

Pulling her towards him, Jesse placed the prop dragger to her throat.

* * *

><p>Kurt opened his eyes gently, though it was almost impossible to see. His eyes were swallowing and the alley was full of darkness. His felt as if he has been run over by a truck; a very homophobic truck.<p>

He knew he couldn't stay there. He had to get up; he had to get help. Summoning all the strength and courage he had remained held, Kurt slowly began to drag himself down the alleyway. He could feel the bones in his legs twist and crunch as he tried to stand; they were defiantly broken. He tried to call for help, but he couldn't speak. His throat burned from the pain. He was ten feet away from the opening of the alley when he collapsed, coughing repeatedly. With each cough came more and more blood, and Kurt felt dizzier and dizzier.

Even with all his devotion, Kurt just couldn't take it any longer, and passed out in a pool of his own blood.

* * *

><p>"<em>Boy, you're an alien. Your touch so foreign. It's supernatural. Ex-tra-ter-res-trial! Ex-tra-ter-res-trial! Ex-tra-ter-res-trial! Boy, you're an alien. Your touch so foreign. It's supernatural. Ex-tra-ter-res-trial!"<em> Which a quick swipe of the wrist, Jesse "sliced" Santana's throw, causing her to fall face down onto the stage; ending the performance, and her suffering.


	45. Chapter 45

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". I hope you all like this chapter. I know things are dark right now, but I promise, the light will shine in through eventually.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>"Tana, can you please just lemme see it?"<p>

"Bug off already!"

The "E.T" performance had defiantly been one of the greatest and worst performances Santana had ever done. The costumes good, the vocals were marvelous, and the dance moves were spot on. But even Brittany could admit working with Jesse was a horrible idea. He turned out to be a diva and cruel. Santana's body ached from the way he threw her to the ground and chained her up.

Santana's mistake was mentioning the pain to Brittany. She loved the girl, but her over protectiveness was sometimes too much to bear.

"If I wanted you to look at it, I would've asked!" Santana snapped as the two girls made their way out through the backdoor of CO's. The rest of the girls were either bought for the night or stayed behind to gaze girlishly at Jesse, so they were the only ones to leave.

"But you're hurt! I just wanna see if you have a mark or something."

Santana turned sharply to face the blonde one. "Are you a doctor? No! So stop annoying me!"

Brittany stared at Santana for a short moment before her eyes began to well up with tears. "Sorry I wanted to help." She sniffled, then ran off in front to leave the alleyway.

Santana, automatically filled with regret, called after her. "Britt!" She shouted. "Britt, I didn't mean that!" But Brittany didn't stop. She kept running until she was almost to the opening of the alley and something tripped her, causing her to tumble to the ground in loud crash. "Brittany!" Santana shouted, running over to her fallen friend.

"I'm okay." Brittany said weakly, as she lifted herself into a kneeling position. "I just fell over something…." Brittany searched the ground, looking for whatever it was that knocked her off her feet.

The discovery wasn't a pleasant one. A loud gasp escaped from both women, and Santana backed herself up against the wall, her hand clapped over her mouth to contain her scream. The body was stiff and dirty as it lay in a large puddle of blood. Brittany leaned forward, her eyes wide as they looked at the broken face of the man in front of her.

"Is he sleeping?"

"We have to get out of here," Santana muttered. "We need to go . . . We need to tell someone."

Santana's mind began to spin. _There was a dead body outside of the club . . . Outside of her club. Someone was murderer here! The club was no longer safe for the girls; Sue was gonna have a fit. The club could be shut down. A murderer was on the loose!_

Santana's thoughts were cut short by Brittany's statement. "He has the same ring as Kurt."

"_What?_"

Santana lunge forward and crotched down beside her friend. Brittany nodded towards the man's left hand, and there sitting on his ring finger was a gold ring with a vintage cut and curved design. A perfect match to the one Blaine had given Kurt. . . .

"Omigod! Omigod! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Santana stumbled back, physically shaking at what they had found. Kurt, was the one Brittany had tripped over. Kurt was the one lying in his own blood. Kurt was the one killed in the alleyway.

"What happened to him?" Brittany asked. "Why is he lying in the alleyway this late?"

"Britt, go inside. Get help!" Pulling out herself, Santana did her best to keep herself together as she dialed the number. "Yes, our friend is lying unconscious in an alleyway." She asked quickly. "No, I don't know what happen. He's beaten up . . . there's so much blood. There was an attack! I don't know! I don't know! We just found him here!"

The operated tried to calm Santana down, but nothing was working. Muttering a Spanish prayer, Santana ran a cross shape over her chest. Brittany came running back out alone. There was no one there to help them.

"I can't calm down! He could be dead!"

"Santana, he's not breathing!" Brittany said anxiously.

"Do mouth to mouth!" Santana ordered. Brittany moved forward and began breathing in and out of Kurt's lopsided mouth.

After shouting the address of their location and begging them to hurry, Santana tossed her cell phone aside and pushed Brittany lightly out of the way to take over. She tried to remember the classes she took back at the hospital all those years ago.

Finding the center of his chest, she began to pump as fast as she could thirty times, before pulling his chin up and pinching his nose and breathing twice heavily into Kurt's mouth. She did this several times with no result.

"Come on, you idiot!" She cursed as she pumped harder and harder. If his ribs weren't broken before, they were now. "Breathe!"

"Santana, I'm scared." Brittany cried softly beside her.

"Everything. Is. Going. To be. Oh. Kay." She said with each pump.

She did this for several long minutes, and even after hope seemed lost, she refused. Santana wasn't going to stop until there one a pulse running through his body.

"Come on, Kurt! You gotta breathe. Come on!"

Finally, after everything seemed useless, Santana felt a small sucking coming from inside Kurt's mouth as she breathed in, followed by a hallow choking sound. Santana sighed with relief as cold tears began to flow down her face.

"I hear the ambulance!" Brittany stated as she stood and ran out towards the flashing lights and sirens.

Lifting Kurt's head onto her lap, Santana continued to talk to him, telling him it would be alright. His eyes opened momentarily, and that one sight was more frightening than anything Santana had ever seen. It was like Kurt was no longer there. His face was smashed and broken, and his eyes were dark.

It was as his soul was beaten along with him, and all that was left was his broken shell.

"You're gonna be okay." Santana chanted over and over again, her emotions beginning to take over. "You're gonna be okay."


	46. Chapter 46

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". I hope you are all enjoying this. You wanted Klaine drama, so I guess you got what you asked for. Enjoy!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Most people think slow motion is only a feature they have during dramatic scenes in movies and on TV to give the shot more depth. What they don't know is when someone dramatic does happen to you, your whole world seems to be in slow motion. You can't think straight; you're whole body is numb; all you know is <em>run, run, run, and go, go, go<em>!

And when Blaine was running through that hospital, it was in slow motion. In reality, it seemed as if he were running in a Olympic competition, though to him, everything was a blur. No doctors, or nurses, or patients; it was like he had tunnel vision, and at the end of that tunnel was a waiting room full of people.

Panting heavily, Blaine looked at the people around him and saw no dry eyes in the whole place. Kurt's parents were closest to the door, their arms around each other as they silently prayed for their son. Finn and Rachel were beside them; Finn held a very tearful Rachel tightly, as he himself cried softly. David and Wes sat quietly in the corner, looking miserable. Artie was sitting across from them with Brittany on his lap, and continued to whisper sweet nothings in her ear, hoping to stop the endless tears that fell down her cheeks. Santana was leaning against the wall between Artie and Kurt's hospital room. Her normally rosy red cheeks were tear stained as she stared blankly at the wall across from her.

No one said a word as Blaine entered the room; partly because no one knew exactly what to say. They either stared up in sorrow or kept their eyes on the ground. It was when he looked to Santana he noticed the large glass window peering into Kurt's room that Blaine was faced with his fear. Kurt was lying nearly lifeless on the gurney as doctors and nurses worked over him, moving at incredible speeds.

As the air escaped from his lungs, Blaine pressed his hand against the wall, watching in horror as the lead doctor continued to jolt his boyfriend's body back to life.

"Kurt," he said finally. "No! No, no, no! Kurt. Kurt!" He was banging on the glass now, causing distraction to the team inside. Walking over swiftly, one of the nurses quickly shut the curtains, containing their work inside. This cause Blaine to go over the edge.

"_NO!_" He went for the door now, banging and jiggling the handle, doing everything he could to get inside. Several nurses and orderlies came over, trying to calm him, but it didn't work. He pushed him away and continued to shout Kurt's name; hoping that somehow he'd hear and snap out of it.

Leaving his place by his wife, Burt walked between them and forced Blaine away from the door.

"Hey, hey! It's gonna be alright. Kurt's gonna be just fine." He said over and over again, but it was to no luck. Blaine was hysterical. Seeing as talking wasn't an option, Burt pulled Blaine into him, and held him tight. Blaine shook roughly, but Burt wouldn't back down. Finally, the smaller man collapsed into his almost-father-in-law's arms, and cried heavily. Burt rubbed Blaine's back softly as Blaine pulled at his shirt as practically screamed bloody murder.

Seeing their friend's reaction, Artie and Finn pulled their fiancée's closer, and from across the room, Santana's and David's eyes locked for a moment, before going back to their broken friend.

Everything was falling apart.


	47. Chapter 47

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". So tell me, is it too emotional for you people? By the way, remember Davana? Yeah, me either. Enjoy!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>It seemed like it took years for the doctor to finally finish with Kurt, though in reality it was only a couple hours. Too long for Blaine's case; five minutes of waiting was like fifty years in hell. He had only seen Kurt earlier that day, though it seemed shorter than that. They had plans tonight: Kurt was going to say goodbye to the girls and Blaine was gonna set up a movie, and they were gonna relax and eat in bed. It seemed so perfect and then it was taken away faster than a snap of the fingers.<p>

Blaine stood silently behind Burt as the doctor told them about his condition.

"How is he, doc?" Burt pushed.

The doctor sighed heavily as he ran his hand through his gray hair. It was easy to see how tired he was having to work on Kurt, even with the four other doctors and nurses.

"He's in critical condition," he sighed. "Now it wasn't anything fatal, but he was beaten pretty badly. It's very possible he could've died if he hadn't been kept conscious."

Blaine turned back, looking at Santana, who was sharing a gaze with Brittany, before she hung her head down again.

"So, he's gonna be alright?" Carole asked.

"He's got some internal bleeding, along with some broken bones and ribs. He's breathing on his own though, and despite the amount of head damage, there doesn't seem to be any trauma done. It's gonna be a pretty long road, but he'll be fine."

"W-when can we see him?" Blaine chocked.

"He's resting now, but he should be awake in an hour or so. You can see him now. But only a few at a time; we don't want to overwhelm him."

"Thank you, doctor." Burt sighed. The doctor nodded before leaving. "Well, now that we know that, I guess we wait."

Carole placed a comforting hand on his shoulder as they moved back to their seats. Blaine remained standing, though he moved closer to the window. There was a slight line between the curtains, allowing Blaine to peep through. Kurt lied still on the gurney; IV's and several other things were tagged all around him, as they kept up all his vials and other things doctors needed to know.

Blaine lost himself staring at that imagine. Maybe if he had gone to the club with him, things would be different. Maybe he could've prevented the accident, and if not that, well maybe he could've taken some of the pain to spare Kurt. Blaine rested his forehead against the glass and sighed. It was gonna be a long wait.

* * *

><p>Santana leaned back against the wall, her eyes piercing the floor. Aside from the voices over the intercom and Brittany's hushed crying, the room was quiet.<p>

It was only a few moments ago that the doctor hold Kurt's parents about his condition. Critical, of course. How could anyone beaten that badly be anything less? _At least he's not dead_, Santana thought to herself. It had been a long night, and from the looks of it, it was only going to get longer. Two cops appeared outside the door; they were too busy speaking to one of the doctors to look in, but Santana could see them very well. They had grim looks on their faces as the doctor explained everything.

They may have been New York cops, but a grim look doesn't matter where you are. She knew she and Brittany were gonna be questioned; they were the ones that found him. And she was the one that kept him breathing and kept him awake, stopping a concussion. Santana winced at any sign of heroicness coming her way. She didn't do it for that.

So caught up in her thoughts, Santana failed to see that Wes was staring at her. Well, at her wrist, really.

"Tan," he said allowed, causing many in the room to look their way. "What's up with your wrist?"

David looked over and spotted the bruises immediately. Jumping from his seat, he knelt before her, taking her hands in his.

"Oh my _god_! What happened?" He asked in disbelief.

"It's nothing." Santana answered simply.

"_Nothing_? Look at this! You weren't apart of the attack, were you? Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"Yes. I mean no. No to being attacked; yes to other burses. Just small ones on my legs and my head."

David, without thinking, reached up automatically, the tips of his fingers lingering against her left temple.

"It's just . . . something from the club." She muttered, feeling horrible about it. "Nothing I haven't felt before." She cleared her throat, looking away from him.

David dropped his hand to her lap, her words stinging him. She hadn't meant it that way, but he thought back to the night they broke up, and how he squeezed her arm and dragged her. He wanted to ask if it hurt. He wanted to kiss the bruises and tell her it would be okay. He wanted to say he was sorry, and that he loved her, and just wanted to hold her and have her hold him until it was all over, but he couldn't do that. They were still broken up and for a good reason too. Backing out would make it all for nothing, and David couldn't have that.

"Excuse me," a voice cut in. Both Santana and David looked up to see one of the cops standing beside them. "Ms. Lopez?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm Officer Duncan, I was told you were one of the two persons who found Mr. Hummel."

"Yeah."

"I need your statement, Miss."

"O-okay." Standing awkwardly, Santana followed the officer. Looking over she shoulder, she took a small glimpse of David as he stood, his eyes filled with sorrow and regret, before leaving the room.


	48. Chapter 48

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". Sick of the drama yet? Well stay tuned, because thats all it's gonna be until the very end.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>To Kurt, the darkness was nothing but a horrifying nightmare. It was pitch black and foggy; like a dirt road from a scary movie. There was nobody around but him; no Finn, or Rachel, or Santana, or Brittany. Not even Blaine. He called out several times, but there was no answer. His voice echoed into the distance, but Kurt was too fearsome to follow it. For Kurt, it was like he was there for years, though in was only hours.<p>

Finally, he was a speck coming towards him. It was freighting, yet intriguing. He called to it and it came closer. It was running towards him like a speeding bull. He wanted to run, but he couldn't. He was stuck. And then finally, it hit him.

Kurt woke to the white lights piercing into his eyes. It was hard to see, but the brightness wasn't hard to miss. He was lying on his back, with his shoulders and head propped up slightly; every inch of him was sore. He tried to move, but the pain was too much. He looked around, finding the room small and depressing. There was a small chair beside the bed on one side, while the other was stuffed with machines, all blinking and beeping.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He licked his lip slowly, shocked to see it sewn on with hard, black stitches. He tried to remember what happened, but his mind went blank. He began to panic, a newfound fear running through him. Where was he and why was he here?

A woman wearing blue scrubs came in through the door, her blonde hair pulled back into a pony tail and her blue eyes stuck to the clipboard. Looking up, she smiled brightly at the sight of Kurt being awake.

Reaching into her pocket, she grabbed a small black walkie-talkie type object.

"Larraine? Yes, nurse Sarah. Please connect Dr. Whitney and tell him that patient, Kurt Hummel, has awoken."

Placing the talkie back into her pocket, she walked over and checked his vitals, jotting it all down onto her clipboard.

"Welcome back. Mr. Hummel." She said.

Kurt stared at her in awe. _What? _

His family came in like a wrecking ball. First dad and Carole. Carole's eyes were bloodshot and Burt looked older than Kurt had ever seen before; having been beat down by the news. Finn came in next holding a Teddy bear from Brittany with a small medical bag attached to it. Finn explained how Rachel, who barely slept a wink after hearing the news, was getting sick, and was sent home, but would be coming back soon.

So overwhelmed by the faces of his family, Kurt almost didn't notice Blaine standing in the corner; his hand clamped over his mouth and eyes digging into his boyfriend. He had never seen anyone look like that, and for it to be the man he loved . . . it rocked Blaine to the core. Kurt's head was bruised and he had stitches across his right eyebrow and left cheek, along with his lip being stitched as well. His right eye seemed swollow, though not black. Down his body was the same, either bashed and bruised or stitched up.

They locked eyes for a moment, but before anyone could say a word, the doctor came in. He politely asked everyone to leave so they could check him, but Kurt refused. As a rough, coughing voice, he asked for them to stay. Dr. Wade proceeded to tell everyone the damage. Thankfully, there had been no internal bleeding, though Kurt lost a large amount of blood. Do to the strength that was forced upon his eye, there was a chance he may go blind in his right eye, but it was only a chance. His body was bruised and cut, and he was in no position to leave any time soon. Though not paralyzed, Kurt was gonna need physical therapy to help him with his walking.

With every answer the doctor gave him, Kurt sunk lower and lower into emptiness. _Why me?_ He asked himself. _Why did this happen to me? _

Pulling up the chair beside him, Dr. Wade leaned in. "Now, Kurt, do you remember anything that happened to you the other night?"

Kurt found that it hurt to think. He tried several times, finding himself wincing from the pain. He saw flashes of everything that happened. Part of him wanted to scream in terror, but he contained it.

"Attack," he muttered weakly.

The doctor jotted that down, nodding. Turning back, he looked to the family. "A mugging gone wrong, I would have to say." Kurt's eyes darted to the doctor, his broken mouth slowly opening. "Sadly to say, New York, the greatest city alive, isn't always great. We'll contact the police again and tell them about this and a search will be put out."

"No." Kurt said weakly. Everyone looked to Kurt, who was shaking his head slowly. "No mugging." He told them.

"Well, if it wasn't money, then what did they want?" Burt questioned.

"No mugging." Kurt repeated, raising his head to look at them. With watery eyes, he answered again. "Bashing."

The room was filled with an eerie silence. Kurt had been bashed. Not only that, but gay bashed. Gay bashing may not be a illegal, but a hate crime is.

"Oh my, god." Blaine murmured, speaking at last. Moving forward, Blaine reached for Kurt with a shaking hand.

Dr. Wade, noticing their matching rings, realized what he had meant. "I see," he muttered, sighing heavily. "This is bigger than I thought. We're gonna have to contact an entirely new field of police. Investigators. Physiological specialist. A rape kit will have to be in order."

"What?" Finn blurted out.

Blaine's breathing became shallow. The thought of his Kurt being raped by another man made him sick to his stomach.

"Its just a protocol, just to make sure Kurt isn't infected by any STD's. Even if he wasn't raped, its possible he could've gotten something." Taking his clipboard, Dr. Wade headed towards the door. "Feel free to spend the rest of the time with Kurt. If you'd excuse me, I have some phone calls to make."

Even with the doctor gone, the room was filled with silence. No one knew what to say to them or how to react to what they were told. Carole was beginning to get teary-eyed again, and Finn was forced to leave to room before he broke something. The only two left in the room with Kurt was his father and boyfriend. Burt had dealt with the bashing before, back from when Kurt was in school and people were ignorant, but nothing like this. Just comes to show that ignorance wasn't going away any time soon.

Blaine sat there holding Kurt's hand and looking into his eyes. _How could someone to this to him?_ He pondered darkly. Everything was coming crashing down and for once, Blaine didn't know if he could continue standing.


	49. Chapter 49

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". More drama for Klaine. This chapter is pretty deep. Now, I'm not doctor or rape victum, I only know from what I watched on CSI and found on Google. If anything is wrong, please don't call me out on it. I'm just a teenager, not some genius. Enjoy.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>"Kurt Hummel?" Kurt nodded slowly, his eyes on his lap. "I'm detective Alex Vega, I'm one of the physiologist for the NYPD, I just need to ask you some questions."<p>

"Are you a doctor?" Blaine asked quietly from his post.

"Yes, I am, but I'm also a detective." Turning her attention back to Kurt, she spoke softly. "Can you answer some questions for me, sweetie?" Again he replied with a nod, too ashamed to look up. "Okay," the detective said softly. "Can you tell me what happened before you left the club that night, Kurt?" Kurt thought long and hard, but all he found was fuzz. "Can you try to remember for me, Kurt?"

Kurt tried again. The flashes returned and he saw Santana and Jesse perform on stage. Kurt didn't want to stay; he wanted to leave the club and go home to Blaine.

"I saw my friends perform without me," he said quietly. Blaine, who stood quietly behind the detective, leaning back against the wall, rested his fist against his mouth. The officer from earlier asked for everyone to leave the room for the questions, but Kurt begged for Blaine to stay, stating it would be easier with him around. "They replaced me after I quit," he continued, "and I was watching them."

The detective wrote this all down. "What happened after you watched them, Kurt?"

"I headed to the back exit - the one all the performers use - and walked down the alleyway. That's when. . . ."

The room was silent for a moment. The detective leaned in close, her voice comforting. "When what, Kurt? When happened when you were walking down the alleyway?"

"These guys jumped me. They thought . . . they thought I was one of the female dancers."

"How many men were there, Kurt? Can you tell me?"

"Two. No! Three."

The detective nodded, writing it all down. "Do you remember what they looked like? Facial hair? Scars? Did they have accents or anything that would separate them from other people?"

Kurt thought about it, but his mind went black. There was nothing insignificant about the three; they were just nobodies. He shook his head. "They all had Brooklyn accents, rough ones. The leader . . . He was wearing a blue jacket and a Mets hat."

"Anything else? Do you remember if they used any names at all? Even nick names?"

Kurt went as far back as his mind could, and as light as a whisper in the dark, it came. When they were kicking and spitting on him, one of the others called the leader by his name. It was a nonchalant comment; one Kurt barely even heard. Thankfully, the name stuck with him.

"Marty." He mumbled. "The leaders name was Marty; one of the others called him that when they were finishing up." The detective smiled, looking up from her pad. "Is that it? Did I do good?"

"Yes, Kurt, you did very good." Going through her bag, the detective replaced her pad with a small briefcase type bag and placed it onto the desk beside her. The rape kit. "Okay, sweetie, here comes to hard part. I'm gonna need to check for any DNA that might still be on your body, and if any STD's were transmitted during the fight."

"They didn't touch me," he blurted out, his eyes flashing to Blaine. "Not like that."

"We still have to check, just in case. Whether you blacked out and they did or they didn't at all, we want to be one hundred percent sure, okay?" Kurt nodded, knowing there was no fighting it. This was how it was going to be. "We're gonna go top to bottom, okay? Gonna take our time. You feel uncomfortable at all, tell me, but we have to do this, okay?"

With a nod from Kurt, she went on her way. She started with his head, combing through his hair, and went down, using cotton swabs on his mouth and ears. She cleaned under his nails, and looked for finger prints on his arms and neck using a special light. Everything went into separate place bags that were all labeled. When it came time to go lower, he begged for Blaine. The detective allowed this and he came over, clutching Kurt's hand as he lied on his back, with his bottom up and legs open.

He's seen this in movies and shows, but it all involved a girl who had actually been raped, or least an attempted rape. This was just a gay bashing; one that involved homophobes that had no intention of fucking Kurt, let alone touch in there.

Blaine would whisper sweet things in his ear, telling him it would be alright and how brave he was being. Kurt had never felt so embarrassed in his entire life. He clutched his boyfriend's hand, wanting nothing more than for this to just be over and down with.

When the detective was finally finished, she thanked both men and said she'd send the doctor in. When asked about the results, she said they'd be ready in two to three days. When left alone, Blaine leaned down, kissing Kurt's head softly.

"I wanna go home." Kurt murmured wetly.

"I know, baby." Blaine said, resting his forehead against Kurt's. "I wanna go home too."

It had been a long few days, and whether they liked it or not, it would only get worse before it got better.


	50. Chapter 50

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". So, I wanna say this story is almost over, but for realz, there is like...10+ more chapters. UGH! Why must I write so much! Small Davana chapter. Enjoy.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Santana closed her eyes, trying to get the imagine out of her head. It didn't matter if she was blinking, trying to sleep, or even just resting her eyes, all she saw Kurt. Not the way everyone else saw him - strapped to a bed with tubes going in and out of his body - but him outside of the hospital, lying on the cold, hard ground, with no air in his longs and blood all around.<p>

It kept her awake most nights. She'd awake from a calm slumber panting and sweaty. It would come out of nowhere and once she saw it, she couldn't shake it. Slowly, it was effecting her life, and she couldn't take it anymore. She didn't want to talk about it, though. She was never one to talk about her feelings, after all. She figured all she needed was a goodnight's sleep, and the pictures would go away on their own.

So she went to the doctor and told him how she's been having trouble sleeping and it was affecting her daily life. Thanks to her father being a doctor, she knew exactly what to say and how to sweet talk to so she got exactly what she needed. Prescription sleeping pills were much stronger than over the shelf brands, and it was exactly what Santana needed. The instructions said for her to take one pill a night and she'd sleep for six to eight hours.

She tried that, but she continued to toss and turn. It said it would take a couple nights before she would sleep soundly, but Santana needed sound now. She took two pills, hoping that do the trick. It begun doing the trick and she was sleeping like a baby. The instructions said not to take any more than two at a time, and she followed it. It was two a night and she fell right to sleep. The side effects were mild: drowsiness, lightheadedness, and constant fatigue. Nothing she couldn't handle, so Santana took it in stride.

As long as she could go to work, sleep at night, and look like she didn't have a care in the world, she didn't give a damn.

* * *

><p>David sighed, slamming his lap top closed. Writing had always come easy for him, like he was made for it. Everything was perfect! He had a great topic; he had done the research; and from what was saved on his document, it seemed to be exactly what he needed to get front page. But something was different; something was missing from his article.<p>

Catching a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, David stopped. He looked worn out and tired; though nowadays, who wasn't? With everything going on with him and Santana, and having to work on the article, he was barely getting sleep. Now with what happened to Kurt, he was lucky if he could get three hours, maybe four tops, a day.

Aside from the bags under his eyes and paleness in his dark skin, he looked like the same old David Porter. The boy next door; the best friend you could turn to; the all around nice guy. Sure, he had a troubled past, but he did what he had to, and he'd overcome the self-loathing he dealt with for years.

No, David was never the bad guy and he never could be. Unlike the guys who attacked Kurt, and even unlike the lesser-evil people like Wes has turned into, David had a conscience, and right now, it was telling him he messed up. He cursed himself, reopening his lap top and opening the document.

He reread his article over and over again. It was mean and crude, and showed nothing but the truth about how evil clubs like CO's are and how sick and twisted the people working there were. He had finally written something eye-catching and readable. He could even win awards for how good it was, he was sure of it!

But he couldn't do it. There was another story he had to tell. Something more deep and emotional, something people could relate too - including himself. Going to the very end of the article, David clicked behind the final period, and pressed backspace, and watched dimly as his weeks worth of writing and genius slowly disappeared.


	51. Chapter 51

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". Thank you all for commenting, it means a lot of me. For those regarding Davana, I promise everything will add up in the end. As for the Klaine, well, we'll just have to wait and see. Enjoy.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Nothing in life was ever easy. Whether it was coming out to your parents, dealing with an addiction, or trying to find your place in the world. For Kurt Hummel, there never seemed to be anything standing in his way. So he was smaller than the rest of the guys; he didn't like sports anyway. So he had the voice of a sopranist; guess who got all the solos? So he was gay; his friends and family were supportive. So he sung boring pop songs and sold himself for money; it was job, and one he cared about deeply.<p>

Nothing ever stood in his way . . . Until now. Now the rules had changed. Kurt had to start all over again - _really_ start over. He had physical therapy every other day for three months so he could get back into his feet and walk properly. It was hard, of course, but by the end he walked just as perfect and graceful as he did before.

The scars, well, the physical ones, were slowly, but surely, beginning to heal, and his perfect porcelain face was starting to look like the way it did. No bruises or cuts, just a perfect complexion and rosy cheeks.

Blaine was pleased by this. It seemed like everything was going back to the way it used to be. Well, almost everything. Kurt was the same old diva he was. He would still demand to go get his morning latte and would point out this or that about Finn's or Rachel's or even Blaine's outfit. He'd still sing around the apartment and blast Judy Garland until David couldn't take it anymore, so he was forced to flee to his office. On the outside, it seemed as if nothing had changed, but Blaine knew better.

One the inside, Kurt was different. He would look at the ground when he walked down the street and if by chance he bumped into someone, his eyes would go wide like deer in headlights. He never wanted to talk about the attack and if it were to ever come up (usually when Blaine would get a call from the police, saying they had more suspects), Kurt would cut the conversation short and move on to something totally different.

He still went to see the psychologists, where Blaine hoped Kurt made some sort of progress. He wanted to ask about it, but every time he tried, Kurt would give him a short answer and be done with it. Blaine didn't want to fight about it, of course. Not about this. So he'd let it go. Hoping to get his mind off everything, he gave Kurt permission to remodel the kitchen. It was new and exciting, and it made him happy, so Blaine was pleased.

Blaine wanted his Kurt back, but he knew it wasn't going to be easy. It was going to take time. How long? Who really knew. Until then, Blaine settled with this, and promised to be there when Kurt was ready to talk.


	52. Chapter 52

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". So I offically finished writing GM this weekend, which means updating with come and go. I'm also posting an all Klaine version of this on . Check it out and maybe even join? It's a pretty cool site for Klainers. Also, my writers block for Send Me An Angel is getting smaller and smaller, so I think it's gonna be good. Enjoy.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Kurt smiled proudly as he over looks his final cuts on the HudsonBerry wedding. It was going to be perfect; like nothing anyone has ever seen before. It was simple, yet elegant. The theme: stars. To his surprise, it was Finn who made the request. Kurt had never seen Rachel blush so red before when he was telling them all the details. Finn wasn't exactly the most romantic guy in the world, but he knew the girl he loved. Kurt found that heartwarming. Nothing like young love blooming into a great lifelong romance.

The wedding was just shy of a month, and Kurt wanted to make sure he had gotten everything set. The caterers were called and the food order was placed. Half was full of chicken and beef for Finn's side, while the other was everything under the sun considered vegan. The cake was hard, of course, but the two settled on a vegan cake, but with extra sugary frosting. It was a win-win, of course.

The only thing that caused a big rip was _where_ the wedding would take place. NYC or back home in Ohio. Finn wanted Ohio, because it was where they met and how they started out. Rachel wanted NYC, because it was where they went to make their dreams come true and it was where they were going to spend the rest of their lives. It caused quite an uproar between the two, until Kurt finally stepped in.

He explained that choosing between the beginning and the end was beyond silly, and that they should choose a place where they wanted to be right now. Both, being as mushy and lovey as any romantic movie couple, decided it didn't matter where they got married, just as long as they did. Kurt figured NYC was easier, and would be a lot more romantic, so it was settled. Rachel, not wanting Finn to feel left out, decided to cut their honeymoon in Hawaii short by a couple days, so they could spend it in their home town. Finn was ecstatic and Kurt knew his brother was in love.

He could only hope when the time came for him and Blaine to tie the night, they'd be a sugary-sweet and annoying.

Hearing his ring tone go off (_Defying Gravity_), placed his work down and headed to the bedroom where it sat on his dresser.

"Kurt Hummel," he answered nonchalantly.

"Hello, Kurt? It's Detective Vega."

Kurt's heart dropped. The police were calling more and more these days, much to Kurt's detest. "Ah, yes. Hello Detective." He said politely.

"I have some good news for you Kurt."

"Oh?"

"We found some new evidence that may lead us to one of the men that attacked you."

"Oh?" He repeated.

"Yes. I was wondering if you'd be able to come down to the station so we could have a talk."

"Come to the station?" He mimicked. He heart began to race faster and faster.

"Or I could come to you." She offered. "When time is good."

Kurt thought about it. It had been months since the attack and every time he was near a police officer or even heard the word "attack" he slowly, but surely, began to relive the moment in his head. _No more!_ Kurt decided.

"Actually, Detective, no time is good for me." He stated. "I don't care whether you find the men or not. All I want is for this nightmare to be over with, so if you wouldn't mind calling your men off and ending the whole thing, that would be wonderful. Good day, detective."

Before Detective Vega could say another word, Kurt pressed the END button, dropping the call. Tossing his phone onto the bed, he went back into the kitchen and back to work.


	53. Chapter 53

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". Very, very small Santana scene. Hope you like it.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Santana leaned against the bar, her eyes glassy and distant. Thanks to what happened to Kurt, the police have been watching the club like a hawk, which caused for bad business. Sue was furious of course. She didn't need any nosy cops around while the girls were out and about. It was worst earlier. Before they used to hang <em>inside<em> the club. This caused for trouble (seeing as prostitution was still illegal) and the girls felt uncomfortable with them around. She got them to back off, of course. Though it took some work. They had to stop selling for a while and make it look like it was nothing but an innocent burlesque club.

Santana found nothing but enjoyment over the chaos. It drove Sue insane and made Jesse unhappy. Of course Mr. Mercury was still being his jerk off self, but Santana couldn't careless. She still had her stop of being number one to be bought and took much pride in that.

She also realized if she took three of her sleeping pills and stayed awake, she would get a hazy, funny high. It would relax her until her shift was over and then she'd hit the hay once she was home. She saw no real harm in it; just something to give her a little boost during her working time.

Smiling smugly, Santana took the hand of her buyer and led him to the backroom. This was her life now, and no matter what people thought about it, she was going to live it.


	54. Chapter 54

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". So, for those of you who like my writing, I'm actual thinking of another story, and I also might write a fic with my beta. Until then, enjoy this!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Blaine slammed the door of the apartment as hard as he could, nearly breaking it off the hinges. It had been one of the worst days at work he's ever had since starting at Metro. Him and his partners lost signing a new artist to another record label, which of course his boss blamed on him. It was complete bullshit; he didn't even get to talk to the guy!<p>

Then he went to his office to relax and received a call from Detective Vega, saying how they had a new lead on a suspect, but Kurt turned it down. He of course rushed home, finding his boyfriend sitting on the couch, looking through tuxedo pamphlets.

Kurt looked up at the sound of the slamming, his head cocked to the side, pondering. Blaine stared at him widely, as if he had grown a fourth head and it was singing show tunes.

"What?" He finally asked.

"Are you crazy?" Blaine questioned.

"Excuse me?"

"You turned down Detective Vega? Kurt, they might've caught the people who did this!" Kurt, who already stood from the couch, walked lazily into their bedroom, not bothering to stay and listen to his boyfriend. Blaine followed of course, continuing his rant. "What are you doing! How are you not excited? How are you not running down to the police station and checking out what they found? How can you just sit there!"

"Because I don't care, Blaine." Kurt announced, flipping through his kilt magazine.

Blaine stepped back, astonished. "Excuse me? Did you just say you don't _care_?"

"That is exactly what I said." Kurt replied, remaining unfazed by Blaine's distress.

"How . . . Why . . . What the _hell_ Kurt!" Blaine shouted. "After everything, how can you just not care! What about everything you went through?"

Kurt put the magazine down, turning on his heel to talk out the door. "Exactly my point, Blaine."

Blaine followed again, his mind baffled. "What do you mean?"

Kurt turned, his expression mixed with sadness and dreariness. "It's been almost four months, Blaine. I worked my ass off just so I could act like a normal person again, and get cat scan after cat scan to make sure a tumor didn't form anywhere. I've had sleepless nights filled with nightmares and cold sweats. All of that is finally coming to an end. I'm beginning to sleep again and not fear every time I step outside, someone is gonna throw a brick at my head and call me a bad name."

"But after all those things, how could you not want to see it through?"

"I guess I'm just not like you," Kurt stated numbly. "I want it to end, Blaine. I want it to be over with. No more cops, no more bad dreams."

"Well, it's not gonna be over unless we do something about it. Those guys who hurt you, who hurt us, they're still out there, walking the streets, free as a bird, and I won't rest until they're locked away."

"This isn't your fight!" Kurt cried.

Blaine stopped and stared. "Not my fight? Not my fight? Kurt, it became my fight the moment I laid eyes on you. It became my fight the second I slipped that ring onto your finger. And it became my fight the moment you started walking down that alleyway. Don't try to tell me this isn't my fight, when I've been with you, every day, cheering you on, knowing we'd make it out of this okay, because those guys would be found. That doesn't fly with me Kurt, and I won't let it end like this."

Turning away, Blaine walked out the door and left the apartment. He went to the police station and spoke to Detective Vega, explaining that he was going to do whatever he can to help the process. They explained they had several suspects, and would be ready to form a line-up, but it had to be Kurt to point the guy out. Blaine cursed himself, knowing Kurt wouldn't do it. He explained this to detective Vega, who was very on edge about it.

Apparently she'd seen too many hate attackers walk off, and didn't want this one to be the same. She liked Kurt, and thought he was a great person, and deserved to have his case closed. Blaine made a deal with her, saying if he had a month to convince Kurt, then the line-up would be set. It was hard, of course. Some of the guys could go on the run, which would fuck it all up for them, but they had to take the chance.

Detective Vega granted him the month, and Blaine set out on his challenge.


	55. Chapter 55

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". So, I honestly hate this chapter, but I felt it was needed. Um...enjoy?

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>David lied back on his bed, listening to the slamming of doors and raising of voices as Kurt and Blaine continued to argue about doing the line up. Kurt wanted it to end, while Blaine wanted to finish it off properly. David found it quite stupid, to be honest. He understood why Kurt wants to end it, but after the hell everyone went through the past few months, why give up before you step over the finish line?<p>

Bored and tired of hearing the same old conversation, David headed out for a drink. There were a few good bars, though David wasn't very picky. As long as he could get some alcohol in his system, it didn't matter.

Taking a seat at the bar, David started up blindly as Yankees played the Mets as he waited for his drink. Once it came, he chocked it down and ordered another. He looked around lazily, getting the look of the place. It was mildly crowded with full happy-go-lucky people, all drinking and laughing and having a grand ole time.

He caught the eyes of a young woman across the way. She was pretty with curly brown hair and green eyes. Her white teeth flashed when she smiled, and when David smiled back, she turned to her friends, causing them to all look in his direction.

It had been a while since he made a girl smile just by looking her way. The girl stood boldly, and made her way to him. She bit her pink lip as she took the seat beside him.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hi there."

"New around here?"

"Town, no. Bar, yes." David answered honestly.

"I'm Melody." Melody extended her hand, which David shook gradually.

"David." He told her. "May I buy you a drink?" He offered, calling the bartender back over. _Maybe the night wouldn't be a total loss?_

* * *

><p><strong>No. He didn't go home and sleep with her. He actually left in the middle of their convo and went back to his apartment to cry over Santana. Yeah, he's a pussy, but I love him.<strong>


	56. Chapter 56

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". Hope you like this chapter! Only a few more until the end!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Blaine entered the apartment tiredly, hanging his jacket up before tossing his keys onto the counter. Kurt was sitting on the couch, his phone pressed against his hear as he spoke quickly. <em>Wedding details<em>, Blaine noted. _Who knew a wedding was such trouble_? Then he remembered. _Anyone who watched Bridezilla_.

"Yes? Yes, perfect. Alright, we'll meet you there. What time is good for you? Perfect! See you soon." He hung up, looking through his files and marking everything down.

"Get something done, today?" Blaine asked.

"More like planning to get something done. The wedding is three weeks away, you'd think everything would be in some kind of order by now."

Blaine walked around the couch and stood behind Kurt, placing his hands upon his shoulders. He moved them slowly, massaging them. "You've had a lot to deal with lately. Soon the wedding will be over and there will be nothing to do, but relax."

Kurt hummed softly, leaning back. "Relax. Ha! I forgot the meaning of the word."

Blaine leaned down to whisper in his hear. "It means no worries. Just lying back, eyes closed, and dreamin away."

"Why are you being nice all of a sudden . . . ? I thought we weren't speaking."

Blaine plopped down beside his boyfriend. Taking hold of his left hand, Blaine twisted and turned Kurt's ring. "I've been thinking about that. Although I do not agree with you, and I have no intention of letting you awake away from this, fighting and not speaking isn't the answer. So we're gonna take it slow. We'll take about it, in hushed, calm tones, and when we finally make a decision, we'll knew deep down it was the right now."

Kurt lifted Blaine head up so he could look him in the eyes. "I'm not giving up, Blaine. You know me all too well to know I'm not easy."

"That is true. And you also know me well enough to know I fight for what I want. And what I want for you is the justice you deserve. And that will happen for you, and for me, and for everyone else who were by side during it all. Its just gonna take some time."

"Why are you so good? Most people, they just don't care anymore. About anything really."

"Well, you see," Blaine threw his arm around Kurt, pulling him closer. "About a year ago, I met this performer at this weird nightclub? He was totally sweet and way out of my league, but he fell for me anyway. You see, he turned me from this every day guy, who just wanted to play music and have a good time, to someone who wanted to be someone important, you know? Someone he could count on."

"You are that person," Kurt confirmed. "And always will be."

Blaine leaned in, smiling. "I love you."

"I love you too." Kurt said, kissing him shortly before pushing him away. Blaine looked at him in confusion and distraught, but Kurt simply smirked. "Uh uh, no time to play. Only twenty more days until Finn and Rachel tie the knot. Lots to do!"

Blaine groaned, as he lied back on the cough. It was gonna be a long two and a half weeks.


	57. Chapter 57

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". This chapter is for ThereIsAlwaysMore, who wanted a little scene with the girls having lunch and talking about the wedding. I added more on, of course, so I hope you all enjoy it.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Santana sat quietly at the table, partly listening to Rachel, who was going on and on about the final details for the wedding. It was barely two weeks away, and everything was set to be perfect.<p>

"It's going to fabulous," Kurt said, smiling brightly.

Santana glared at him from across the way, knowing perfectly well that smile was worth crap. He was beginning to recover and was finally beginning to come out and be with people again. This was his first all girls luncheon since the incident and both Rachel and Brittany wanted everything to be simply and stress-less for him.

"So, Brittany, when are you and Artie finally tying the knot?" Rachel questioned, taking a brisk sip from her water.

"We're hoping for sometime this summer, but after listening to you, it all seems too complicated."

"Don't listen to her, B." Santana piped in. "I mean, it's Berry. Everything goes out of control when she's involved." Catching all eyes on her, Santana backed down. She didn't mean for that to sound as cruel as it did. "But with that said, I'm sure the wedding is gonna be totally dope."

Reaching forward, Kurt took hold of Brittany's hand. "Brittany, dear, you know I'm always here to help. If you and Artie are having a hard time dealing with all the proportions, you can always hire me to do it."

"Artie said the wedding can be anything I want. I was thinking Britney Spears. Or maybe cats. Or dolphins!"

"A dolphin themed wedding?"

"Well there's always under the sea, Rachel. Quite tacky, but with my touch, I would turn it into something perfectly Disney-esque." Kurt told her, dreamingly.

"I just want our wedding it to be perfect." Brittany said innocently.

Kurt touched her shoulder lightly. "And it will be. Hell, if I can make my own father's wedding a dream come true, then I can without a doubt do the same for you."

Santana looked at the sweet scene before her and began to laugh. Heads turned to look her way, glaring as she shook her head, drinking her iced tea.

"Man, am I happy to be single."

"What?"

"Look at all of you! Doting upon the little bride and the bride-to-be. It's exhausting! All the planning, and the preparing. Being single is way more fun."

"How can you say that?" Brittany whispered.

"Because it's the truth," Santana spoke. "Why be tied down to the same old person for the rest of your life? When you're single, you don't have to worry about anybody else, but yourself. You can go out whenever you want. Buy whatever you want. Do whatever you want, without having to deal with anyone. Why be stuck with one person forever? Totally boring. Hell! You even get to have sex with whoever you want. Being single, is wicked sweet."

There was a clatter and a bang then. Rachel, who was suddenly standing, threw her napkin onto the table. "What's the difference to you, Santana?" She asked rudely. "You did all those things even when you _were_ in a relationship!"

Turning with a huff, Rachel ran out. Brittany was the next to stand. "That was really mean, Santana." She said before running after the bride.

Santana leaned back, sipping her drink. "Oopsy."

"For someone who puts on such a good face, you're a horrible actress." Santana looked to see Kurt in his seat, staring deeply at her.

"Excuse me?"

"You don't mean any of that." He said.

"Oh really?" She challenged.

"You put on a good face, and act like it doesn't matter, but deep down you're broken."

Santana leaned forward, her arms crossed and eyes narrowed. "That's where you're wrong, Hummel. Because I couldn't care less about what happened. I'm happy without him."

"Happy? I've seen the way you look at yourself in the mirror, Santana. Before you used to look at yourself like you were all that, now you can barely take one glace without looking like someone just broke your favorite mixtape."

Santana tsked, rolling her eyes at him. He was wrong, like, beyond wrong. She didn't care. Not in the least.

"What's it to you, anyway?" She questioned.

"Because whether we act like it or not, Santana, we're friends. And I care about you. I hate seeing you like that."

"Like what!"

"Like someone pulled your heart out and performed some wild, Latin dance over it!"

Santana slammed down onto the table. "For the millionth time, I don't care!"

"The hell you do! Whether you'll admit it or not, you're miserable without David. And from what I see at the apartment, he's just as miserable."

"I hardly doubt that." Santana mumbled bitterly. "He's the one who dumped me, remember?"

"And you're the one who drove him to it." He told her. "It didn't have to be with way, Santana. You could still be with him. You could be happy - _truly_ happy."

"No, Kurt. I couldn't. When will you see David and I together don't work?"

"Oh, now that's just the biggest lie I've ever heard! And trust me, someone once told me _orange_ was the new _black_ so I'd buy a stupid coat!" Kurt half shouted. "You wanna know what I think? I think you're scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Of being hurt. Of letting anyone come close to you. That's why you took the job at Cheeri-Ohs! and refused to stop selling yourself. You think being with all those people will make the fear go away, but instead it just pushes that fear down, holding it in until it finally explodes."

"I've heard enough." Santana stood from her chair, gathering her belongings.

"David loves you, Santana." Kurt urged.

"I don't believe in love!" Santana shouted.

"Well you better learn to!" Kurt answered automatically. "You have no idea how lucky you are, Santana. To have someone love you and want you to be with you and you only. I never dreamed of the day I'd find that, but the day I did I swore I'd never let it go. Maybe you should do the same before it's too late." Standing, Kurt tossed his napkin onto the table. "Take it from someone who came closer than ever before!"

Placing the money for the bill, Kurt stormed away from the table, leaving Santana alone; leaving her to be alone with her thoughts, whether she liked it or not.


	58. Chapter 58

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". Okay! Here is the Finchel wedding that has been promised! I hope you all enjoy it. ALSO, I just wanna say that I'm writing another Klaine fic. It has to do with modeling! If you could check it out, that would be amazing. It's called Take Over Control Inc. Until then, comment and review. Bye!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>"<em>Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." <em>

Kurt read the words over and over again, glancing down happily at the card on the table. The wedding had been beyond spectacular, and more importantly, the little dream wedding he envisioned for his brother and friend came true. Everything was timed perfectly; Kurt had made sure Finn didn't get too drunk the night before, so there was no hangover involved. The vows, of course, were marvelous. It was a mixture of their own words and lyrics to a song they were to dedicate to one another.

Kurt could hardly control himself as he stood beside his brother, watching these two people who have loved one another since they were mere teens, finally say I do, and kiss as man and wife.

The reception was grand, of course. White and gold all around, with different sized stars hanging all around. Very elegant, very simply, and very perfect. Kurt watched wholeheartedly as the bride and groom had their first dance. Thankfully, finding a suitable band wasn't as hard as he first pictured. Ironically someone they worked with back when ND first opened became a fairly big Jazz singer - she even had her own band. Mercedes, who was still quite close to Rachel was more than happy to perform for them.

After that, the real dance songs came on and Kurt could barely control himself. He and Blaine hopped around the floor, acting like no one could see them. After all, everyone knew music plus champagne was one of the best things about a wedding.

It was when the slow songs began to play that Kurt started getting nervous. He was able to dodge Blaine earlier, saying he had to check on this and that. Blaine didn't seem too heartbroken. He went off to dance with Rachel and Carole. Every now and then he'd get Brittany or Santana on the floor with him, and if he wasn't dancing, he was talking to David or playing around with Robbie. But now it was later into the evening and everything was set. There was nowhere to go but here.

"Hey!" Blaine walked over, smiling widely. "Guess who just requested one of the most romantic songs on the planet?"

"I'm gonna go ahead and guess . . . You?"

"Right you are my good man." Blaine leaned forward, holding his hand out. "May I have this dance?"

Kurt stalled. There were a lot of people out, and only so many out on the dance floor. They would be easily spotted. He didn't want to say no, but something deep down inside him made him nervous about dancing in public with Blaine.

"Pretty please?" Blaine asked, acting the rejection before it was thrown at him. "Just one dance. That's all I ask."

Biting his lip, Kurt reluctantly took his boyfriends hand, and allowed himself to be pulled out onto the dance floor. Blaine wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer.

Mercedes stepped up to the mic, smiling as the band began playing. "This is for all you lovers out there." Taking a deep breathe, she began singing. "_Pride can stand a thousand trials,the strong will never fall. But watching stars without you, my soul cried._"

Having recognized the song, Rachel smiled widely, looking up to her new husband. With that dimply half smile, Finn took her hand and led her out to the dance floor. Many more followed, including Burt and Carole and Brittany and Artie.

"_Touch me deep, pure and true. Gift to me, foreeeeeeverrrrrr._"

"Hey, are you alright?" Blaine asked, pulling away slightly. "You're as stiff as a board."

Kurt, who had been looking everywhere but here, shook his head. "Yes. I'm sorry. I'm just a little . . . spaced out."

"Hey, look at me." Blaine requested softly. Kurt did as asked, his eyes soft. "Forget about all these people. It's just me and you here. Okay? No one else matters." Pulling him closer, Kurt rested his head against Blaine's shoulder, despite the height difference, and closed his eyes, letting the music take him away.

David sat awkwardly as his table, swirling his half empty glass of whine around and around. On the floor were the happy couples dancing slowly, and here he was, sitting all alone like a lonely old Joe, having no one do dance with. But to his surprise, he didn't seem to be the only one left alone.

Santana sat in the corner of her table, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her eyes went from her nails to the dance floor and back again. Loving couples dancing at a wedding; it made her sick. All she wanted to do was leave the damn place, go home, pop a pill so she could sleep, and do so until late tomorrow.

Looking up again, her eyes landed across the room on a familiar face, which seemed just as lonely as hers. Their gaze locked for some time; neither able to pull away. It seemed silly, really. To have no contact whatsoever after their break up. But then again, that's what breaking up was about. Moving on with yourself. They both planned on doing so, but it didn't work out the way they had planned.

"_Where are you now? Where are you now? Cause I'm kissing you. I'm kissing you, Oooooh._"

At the end of the song, many clapped and praised Mercedes for her talent. Some - like Finn and Rachel, and Kurt and Blaine - kissed, not caring who was around to see them. Others, like Santana, left for the night, and the rest, like David, sat stranded, having nowhere else to go.


	59. Chapter 59

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". Mega-mega small David chapter. I promise a deep Klaine chapter in three days. Um, comment and tell me what you think. Also, don't forget to checkout Send Me An Angel and Take Over Control Inc. I'm also starting on another fanfic, it has to do with the 1940's and it features Klaine. I'm looking forward to that. Um, enjoy!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>David sat with his back straight in front of the editor's desk as his boss slowly reread his article. It had taken him almost a week to come up with it, and he went through nearly fifty rewrites before he finally came up with something worth handing it. Mr. Larson wasn't exactly a nice man when it came to telling people what he thought. He was straight to the point and he liked it that way. Blaine used to compare him to Jonah Jameson from the old Spider Man comics and films.<p>

He had been sitting there for at least ten minutes before Mr. Larson finally spoke.

"It's not exactly what you promise me, Porter." He huffed, placing the paper down flat.

"I know that sir, and I'm sorry, but the article I was writing before . . . It just didn't fit, what I really wanted to say."

"I never took you to be a sappy romantic, Porter. I'm a bit surprised."

"I'm just trying to be real, sir."

Mr. Larson leaned back, sighing deeply. He was a man about finding the truth and selling papers, not romance and blah blah blah. "Can you give me one good reason this should be in the Times, kid?"

David leaned back, thinking hard. "Well, sir. If there's anything I learned about being a writer, it's that I have to be true to myself. That sounds cheesy and stuff, but it's true. This article, I put a piece of myself in it, sir. I think it's something people can relate to and will understand. I mean, there are tons of people who've fallen in love; you too, I see, regarding the wedding ring on your finger. I just feel like . . . This is something that needs to be out there for the world to see. But that's my judgment, sir. Feel free to make your choice."

Mr. Larson remained silent as he looked down at the article. "For as long as I've been Chief here, we've been printing stories about criminals, drugs, politics. Rarely ever about finding and losing love. Not even on Valentines day." Leaning forward, Mr. Larson called for his secretary. "Lisa? Yes, in here please." When Lisa showed up, Mr. Larson handed her the article. "Give this to Bob, he'll know what to do with it."

David sat dumbfounded, trying to piece together what was going on.

"Sir?"

"Once upon a time, David, I was young too. And I had a girl I'd give the whole world to just by a snap of the fingers."

"Sir?"

Leaning forward, Mr. Larson extended a hand. "Congrats, Kid. In two week's, your article will be posted on the front page of The New York Times."

David's mouth practically dropped to the floor. Shaking his boss' hand, he laughed joyfully. Leaving the office, David ran back to the apartment to spread the news.


	60. Chapter 60

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". I know it's small, but it's a pretty deep chapter. I hope you all enjoy it and feel free to leave a comment.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>It was a rare thing for Blaine to wake alone in his bed. Ever since Kurt moved in, they never slept apart. Even when they were angry and not speaking to one another, they shared a bed. Thinking he just want to the bathroom or to get a drink of water, Blaine waited patiently for him to return. One minute turned to five, five turned to ten, and ten turned into fifteen. Confused and more awake, Blaine got out of bed and went searching.<p>

Kurt was in the living room, cleaning. The soft hush of the vacuum filled the room as Kurt went back and forth, cleaning thing the carpet. Blaine stood and watched, his head tilted to the side.

"Kurt?" There was no answer. "Kurt!" He repeated loudly. "Kurt, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm cleaning the apartment."

". . . But it's three in the morning?"

Kurt huffed, vacuuming between the couch cushions. "Better to do it when everyone's asleep than try when you're all awake and in my way."

Sensing his bitterness, Blaine stepped carefully. "Kurt . . . is everything okay?"

"Of course, Blaine. Everything is fucken peachy."

"Kurt, what's going on? This isn't like you?"

Kurt stopped, tossing a pillow back onto the cough roughly. "Oh, so now something is wrong with me? How kind of you to notice, Blaine dear."

"Kurt! That's not what I-"

"Is it wrong for me to want to keep the apartment clean? I am the apartment wife, now. No job, no life. I gotta do something to keep myself busy, don't I?"

Blaine stood with his mouth hanging open. Raising his hands, he held them out warningly. "Kurt, just calm down, okay?"

"I am calm! I am sick and tired of everyone telling me what to do! Testify this guy, do a line up, act like it didn't even happen, don't let them get to you. This is my life, God dammit!" Picking up one of the pillows, Kurt threw it across the room, throwing all the pictures off the fireplace in one smooth loud crash.

Blaine stood in silence as he watched the man he loved quiver and shake with anger. Frightened and worried, Blaine took three steps, pulled Kurt into his arms, and held him tight. Kurt put up a fight a first, mumbling to be let go and pushed Blaine away, but Blaine refused to let go. After a long and heart wrenching moment, Kurt finally broke down.

Digging his fingers into his shirt, Kurt clung to his boyfriend. Blaine pulled him to the couch as Kurt turned hysterical.

"Why!" Kurt cried longingly. "Why did they do this to me!"

Blaine cradled Kurt like a small child, refusing to let go no matter how hard he shook. He rested his head against Kurt's shoulder, his eyes closed tightly as Kurt continued to scream and weep. He whispered in his ear, promising him it would be alright and that the bastards were gonna pay, but it didn't help.

It was the first time Kurt cried since the attack happened. All the anger and sadness he had been harboring finally exploded. And Blaine was there to hold him into the night, and be there for him in the morning.


	61. Chapter 61

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". Small Santana scene. I hope you like it. More to come soon, I promise.

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Santana stood on the stage, watching as the world spun around her. It was late and she and the others just put on their final show and now it was time to go and mingle. But as the curtain fell, Santana remained standing, her mind twisting.<p>

"Lita?" Quinn came up beside her. "Lita, you need to get off the stage."

Santana shook her head. "What?"

"The show is over. You need to get off and get ready to meet the clients."

"Oh. Oh yeah."

"Are you okay?"

"What? Yeah, I'm fine. Jeez. Give a girl some breathing room, huh?"

Pushing Quinn out of the way, Santana stalked into the dressing room. Her head was spinning every which way and everything around her became blurry. The girls murmured softly as they watched her take her seat in front of the mirror.

Taking a deep breath, Santana used all her strength to keep her eyes awake. The pills were becoming too much for her and she was getting more tired by the second. She had to fight it, of course. She had to go and talk and persuade someone to buy her. She was Lolita after all. Everyone loved her and everyone wanted her.

Caught up in her thoughts, she missed out on hearing Jesse storm into the room like the diva he was. He was demanding, as usual. He ordered Santana and Quinn to come with him as they went down to meet the clients. Quinn agreed, while Santana sat incoherent in her corner.

"Hello! Lita!" Jesse shook her shoulder, getting her attention.

"What!" She shouted.

"It's time to go."

"Alright! Jeez."

"What is with her lately? Her damn disobedience is looks bad on me."

Santana found it hard to stand, and it seemed everyone was speaking at once. Her stomach churned wildly, and before she could do anything, Santana vomited on the floor before collapsing. The girls cried and surrounded her as Jesse stood looking disgusted and bothered.

"Santana! Santana, wake up! Someone get Sylvester!" Quinn cried as Santana lied unconscious on the floor.

* * *

><p>Addiction is not something you toy with. It's a disease that can take you over in the matter of moments. Some are lucky and learn to quit. Some aren't so lucky and lose their lives to it. And the there are the others that ride the addiction seesaw and go back and forth between better and worse.<p>

Santana didn't want to be that person. She didn't want to lose the battle after fighting so hard to beat it not long ago. What happened at the club would only be a start if she didn't stop soon. The girls begged her to see a doctor, but she refused. Not a doctor. And especially not for a possible addiction. That was too close for comfort.

Rummaging through her apartment, she tossed out every pain killer, whether it was over the counter or not. She didn't want this life. She already lost so much. Her family. Her home in Ohio. David. . . . Her life was the only thing she had lose, and Lord knows she wasn't going to give that up without a fight.

Taking the signed prescription, Santana ripped it up into itty bitty pieces before throwing in bag of pills into the dumpster. She was finally free.


	62. Chapter 62

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". Hey guys! I hope you like this chapter, Kurt finally sticks up and does the right thing

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>Kurt stood with his knuckles pressed against his lips. He watched as the seven men silently entered the room and stood against the wall, facing him. They all had numbers hanging from their chest from the order they stood in. He knew they couldn't see him, but he was still shaken to the core seeing them look his way. One of these men was the leader of the three, and the other two could be there as well.<p>

When he agreed to do the line up, he had no intention of actually coming face to face with his attacker. No, that was too much for him. A very small part of him wanted to back out, but he knew it was for the best. The night he broke down was the worst night of his life; maybe even worst than the attack itself.

He dreamt he relived the attack all over again. But this time it was different. They kicked harder and moved faster. He lost way more blood, and this time, there was no one coming around to revive him. Nobody came for him. They just let him lie there in the cold, dark alleyway, until he slowly died.

When he woke up, he was sweating from head to toe. He was physically shaking and nearly fell out of bed when he stood. He tried to get his mind off of it by cleaning. He washed the counter and dusted the living room. He went out and bought one of those super quiet vacuum cleaners and went on doing the carpet.

He probably would've moved onto the bathroom next if Blaine hadn't of walked in. It was the first time he cried since the attack itself, and it was Blaine that held him during it all. He was thankful for that. Kurt was thankful for a lot of things in his life, but most of all, he was thankful for Blaine.

Not just for him being his amazing self, but for just being in his life in general.

"Okay, Kurt. All these men fit the description you gave us and all answer to Marty. All you have to do is look." Detective Vega told him.

"You okay?" Blaine asked softly.

Kurt gave him a stiff nod, feeling Blaine's fingers slowly wrap around his hand. His gave it a small squeeze before stepping closer. Each of the men were dressed almost identical as Kurt described. Ugly jacket, Mets hat, dirty jeans. It was so dark in the alleyway, Kurt couldn't possibly tell by looking at them.

"I'm not sure." He said at last. "I'm sorry . . . I can't tell by looking at them."

"Hey, it's okay. We got another plan. Now, I need you to close your eyes."

"Why does he have to do that?" Blaine questioned, his protectiveness showing.

"We're gonna have the suspects speak. If Kurt closes his eyes and concentrates, he should be able to pinpoint who the attack is."

A moment passed before Kurt gave a simply nod and did as requested. Closing his eyes, he took a long breathe and cleaned in mind. He heard Detective Vega go over the intercom and ask them to say a simply phrase. _"The Mets are totally gonna win this year"_ It was simple enough, and the real Marty was a Met fan, after all.

Kurt listened carefully as they went down the line. Number One was too soft. Number Two didn't have the right accent. Number Three was too low. Number Four was closer. Number Five was even better. Number Six . . . Well, to be honest, Kurt stopped listening after Five.

"Either Four or Five." He told them.

"You sure?" Kurt nodded. "Four and Five, step forward."

Kurt stepped closer as well, almost touching the glass. Four was a short man with blonde hair was a well cleaned face. Five was a little taller with brown hair and more scruff. It was definitely one of them; Kurt was sure. Needing to separate them, Kurt made a small request.

"Have them curse."

"What?"

"Make them swear. I don't know! Fuck, dammit. Anything. I need to hear them say the words."

Detective Vega was hesitate, but finally obliged. She asked the two to say some swear; didn't matter which ones but he had to say them. Four went first, going down the line of "shit", "fuck", and "asshole". This voice just didn't seem to match it.

Five went next, though he seemed tired and bored. "Fuck" was first, then "bitch" came after. Kurt's mind was still to fuzzy to make the marks, but it was so close! Finally, he said his last word: "faggot". Whatever wall was blocking Kurt's mind from progressing was broken down suddenly by that one simply slur.

Kurt's eyes shot open and stared directly at Five. A flash of memory showed and from in the lit moon light, Kurt saw his face. That tan, scruffy face.

"That's him." Kurt said automatically. "Five. He's the leader."

"Are you positive?"

"Without a doubt. He did it."

As Detective Vega told the other officers to get Five into custody, Blaine pulled Kurt into him, hugging him tight.

"I'm so proud of you." He said over and over again before kissing him softly. Kurt's eyes began to water. Whether it was the fear of seeing the face of his attacker so many months afterwards or the sheer joy of it all being over, Kurt didn't know.

Either way, it didn't matter anymore. Everything was finally going to be okay again.


	63. Chapter 63

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". Here is an extra cheesy chapter. Had to do with dancing and teddybears and sheer cutness. Features the song "Come Away With Me" by Norah Jones. Please comment and tell me what you think, and please enjoy!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>It was late into the night when Blaine awoke alone. His first thought was to panic, as he leapt out of his bed, but calmed when he reached the living room, finding Kurt sitting alone on the love seat.<p>

"Hey," He said slowly, not wanting to frighten him. Kurt looked up, his eyes tired. "Everything alright?"

Kurt nodded slowly, breathing deeply. "Couldn't sleep." He replied.

Stepping closer, Blaine sighed at the sight of Kurt in the moonlight. Whether he was flawless, as before, or broken, like he's been since the attack, Kurt's most angelic features never seemed to go away. Blaine was thankful for this. It proved the Kurt he loved so much was still there.

Walking to the china closet, Blaine began to tinker with the record player. He was one of the few people who brought the vinyl disks of an artist, no matter what the cost. Getting to the song he wanted, he turned back to Kurt.

"May I have this dance?"

Looking up at his boyfriend, Kurt nodded, and placed his hand in Blaine's.

* * *

><p>David tossed and turned in his bed, failing horribly at trying to sleep. He used to sleep so soundly, but nowadays, he was lucky if he got four hours with waking from discomfort. He knew what was bothering him tonight, but he tried to fight it. He could hear the music from the living room play softly, but didn't investigate. Kurt and Blaine needed their time together and he wasn't going to ruin that.<p>

Instead, he shook furiously, before lifting himself from his bed, and walked to the side of the room where he kept the box of things Santana returned. He had been meaning to look into it since the day Kurt brought it home, but never had the courage to do so.

Placing the box on the end of the bed, David sat down and opened it. There wasn't much, but the things inside were definitely something. Mixtapes he had made for her; a framed picture of them together; the music box he had gotten for her for Christmas that played a piano version of Song Bird, which he recorded himself, after paying X amount of dollars to do so; and several other small, meaningful items.

Placing the box onto the floor, David pulled out his favorite of the things: a small stuffed bear he had made for Santana after a trip to the mall. They were feeling silly and decided to head over to Build-A-Bear, where they each made one. Santana made a female bear, named Ana, while David made a male, named Dav. It was incredibly childish, but they loved them.

David joked on how if they ever missed one another, Santana would simply have to hold Dav, while David held Ana, and the two would be connected. He missed being connected with Santana. As angry as he was with her, he loved her nonetheless and nothing was going to change that.

Snuggling against his pillow, David pulled Dav close, and dreamt that for one more night, he was holding Santana in his arms, and not the bear.

* * *

><p>Santana thrashed rapidly as she walked through her apartment, pulling her jacket off, and not even bothering to hang it. It was a long night and all she wanted to do was sleep. Whether it was the men treating her like a piece of meet or Jesse's sheer rudeness, Santana didn't know, but she was slowly getting sick of the place.<p>

And why shouldn't she by now? CO's wasn't exactly paradise now that Kurt and Brittany were gone. Wanting to have the wedding as soon as possible, Brittany decided it was best to end her reign as lead dancer at the club. Santana was heartbroken, but how could she blame her? Brittany had a life of her own with Artie, and she deserved to move on, just like Kurt had.

Anyway, they replaced her with a new girl. Some Asian chick named Tina, aka, Cha-Ching, who happened to be dating Mike, aka, Bling-Ching, one of the male dancers. She was a nice girl, but Santana preferred Britt. They were best friends after all.

But to be honest, if anything had changed, it was Santana herself. She grew more tired, due to the extra hours of practice and long nights, and her eating habits were basically nothing. She didn't want to admit she was slipping, but in reality, she knew it was true.

Changing out of her clothes and into something more comfortable, Santana shuffled into bed, pulling her blanket closer, and snuggling against it. Sitting beside her was the stuffed bear she had made for David on her favorite date, though she swore to secrecy over it. She knew she should've given it back along with the other one when she packed away all of David's things, but she just couldn't. That bear was a part of her, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

Pulling him close, Santana drifted off to sleep with Ana in her arms.

* * *

><p>Blaine held Kurt close as they swayed to the music. It had been a while since they had moments like this - peaceful and content. Kurt's head was resting against his shoulder, his eyes closed calmly.<p>

"_Come away with me_ _. . . in the night_." Blaine whispered into Kurt's ear softly, reciting the hook of the song. Kurt breathed deeply, shuffling closer. Blaine noticed this, but didn't stop their movements. Instead he wrapped his arms tighter around his boyfriend, and continued to sing along until neither could dance any longer.

Once in bed, Kurt snuggled against Blaine, his head resting gently upon Blaine's chest, and drifted slowly sleep with Blaine's arms around him. Blaine kissed his head; the last stanza still playing in his head.

"_Come aaaaaway with meeeeee_."


	64. Chapter 64

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". Hey guys! Sorry for the late update. I hope you enjoy this. It's a Santana chapter... Only few left until the end. Enjoy!

P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.

* * *

><p>It was early Saturday morning when Kurt arrived at Santana's doorstep. She was heading over to Starbucks for a latte and get some Pepto-Bismol for her upset stomach. The stress from the club was taking a toll on her and Santana wanted to take care of it before going to work tonight. She was surprised to see him, to say the least, though she didn't turn him away when he asked to join her.<p>

The walk to the coffee shop was filled with silence, and neither looked at the other when they finally sat down. Finally, Santana cracked.

"So," she breathed slowly. "What do you want?"

Kurt, with his hands wrapped around his hot cup, bit his lip, half smiling. "Well, I don't know if you heard, but they caught them."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I did a line up and picked out the leader. This, construction worker named Martin. From what the detectives said, he started singing like a bird before they even got him in handcuffs. Ratted the other two out, got them in, and boom, each are facing jail time for a hate crime and for being on private property."

"Wow! That's . . . god, that's fantastic. Do you think they'll serve their time?"

Kurt leaned back, sipping his latte drip. "Oh, they will." Santana cocked her head. "Along with the damaged they caused my physically, they're gonna be charged for mental damage on me, my family and Brittany."

Santana's gaze dropped. "Oh."

"I didn't come here to ask you this, I swear, but if you want to testify, you can. You have every right to. I mean, you and Britt were the ones that found me. I can only imagine what that put you through." A long moment passed before either spoke again. "I never did thank you."

"For what?"

"Saving my life." Santana looked up, her eyes locking Kurt's. "If it wasn't for you putting air back into my lungs and keeping me awake, I would've slipped into a comma and would've been killed. The doctor said so himself."

"It's . . . it was nothing, Kurt."

Kurt bit his lip, looking down. "I also owe you an apology, Santana." Kurt said ashamed. "For what I said at brunch that day? You didn't deserve that and I'm so sorry."

Santana laughed bitterly, her eyes watering. "Please, no apology needed. I deserved that and we both know it. You were right, after all."

"Santana-"

"I'm throwing my whole life away, Kurt. And for what? Money and a horribly good reputation?" Santana sniffed, leaning her head back to wipe away a tear. "What does it matter? It's better this way. David's moving on, I'm sure he's writing."

"He is." Kurt confirmed. "He got front page for his latest article."

Santana cleared her throat, smiling brokenly. "That's great. No, that's really . . . really great. I should be going."

Kurt took hold of her hand, hoping to stop her. "Santana, please!"

"There's nothing to say, Kurt." Santana told him, fixing herself. "It's over now. We can all be happy and move on."

Kurt sighed heavily as Santana left. _Yeah, we can all move on. Except for you._

* * *

><p>The club was boppin' and the music was hot. Slowly, Cheeri-Ohs! was turning back into the club it used to be. It wasn't long before Santana had a buyer. He was a sweet lookin guy with blonde, Bieber like hair, and a pretty mouth. He reminded Santana of a guppy. Small and shy; it wouldn't surprise her if he were a virgin. Taking his hand, Santana led him to the backroom.<p>

Although it would've been an easy in-and-out job; probably over in minutes, Santana wanted to take it slow. The guy was good looking, and he didn't seem like the jerks who've brought her so many times. But to her dismay, it was over before it even began. As soon as they stepped foot into the room, the headache Santana had been dealing with since she woke up became too much for her, and with little warning, up came all the contents in her stomach.

Santana was thankful she made it to the garbage before upchucking, but she knew, unless he had some weird fetish, their hook up was unlived. Santana hung her head low, she could hear it all now. The guy screaming and leaving; he'd tell Sue, and Santana would be done for.

But to her surprise, he did the exact opposite. Pulling out a small package of tissues from his pocket, he helped Santana to be bed, and rubbed her back, soothing her.

"Are you okay?"

Santana gave a stiff nod, wiping her mouth with the tissue. "Yeah, I'm fine." Santana sighed, looking to the floor. "God, I feel like such an idiot."

"Hey, it wasn't your fault. Getting sick just happens. I remember a friend of mine puked all over our other friend once in high school. Of course she was drunk, but it was this weird combination of drinks, so I don't actually think it was the alcohol that did it to her, ya know?"

Santana smiled small, this guy was definitely a dork.

Reaching forward, he held out his hand. "I'm Sam."

"Santana." She breathed, realizing for the first time since she got the job, she told someone her actual name while working. "Look, stay here, I'll go get you another girl."

"No! It's fine."

"Really, it's the least I can do. Hmm, maybe Lucy Q? She's hot, even though you guys kinda look like twins."

Sam laughed. "What?" Pulling her back, Sam sat her beside him. "Really, I don't want another girl. I shouldn't even be here, really."

"Why are you here?" Santana asked.

Sam sighed, hanging his head. "My girlfriend and I just had this big fight, and we kinda broke up."

"And you figured getting a quick lay would get your mind off it?" Sam frowned. "Oh, you have no idea how stupid you sound, babe."

"Yeah, tell me about it. The whole thing was my fault. I was jealous over her job. She's a singer, for like weddings and stuff, and I just figure, there's gotta be a hotter, better fit guy out there who'd take her away, ya know?"

"What did she say to that?"

"She called me stupid and walked out. That was three days ago."

Santana remained still, listening to him go on about how he and his girlfriend seemed so different, and yet, so perfect for one another. The worst part was he wasn't sure if they'd be getting back together. Yeah, he loved her, but maybe they were better off going their separate ways.

Standing up, Santana left the room, returning several moments later. Taking his hand, Santana placed his roll of money in his palm.

"Huh? I thought you don't give refunds."

"We don't, but you're an exception. Now, Sammy boy, I want you to do something for me." Santana pulled him to his feet, brushing his clothes off, making him look nice. "Take this money and go out and buy that girlfriend something. Chocolate and flowers, and junk like that. Then go to her house and beg for her forgiveness, and tell her that you trust her and love her, and yada, yada, yada. Okay?"

"Why are you doing this? From what the Asian girl told me, you're supposed to be a total bitch."

Santana smiled. "I am. But I also know what its like to be in your position. Now go! Wait! Stop! Wait here." Santana left for a long moment, gathering her things from the dressing room and changing. She tipped off Becky, telling her she was going home with a stomach bug, before returning to Sam. "Let's go!"

Leading him though the back, she and Sam went through the back entrance, which was heavily covered with bouncers, seeing as Sue didn't want any repeats of what happened. As they got to the opening, Santana turned to him. "Now go and get your girl."

Leaning down, Sam kissed Santana's cheek. "Thank you." He said, before running off and haling a cab. Santana watched as he got into the cab and drove away, pondering why exactly she did that. And then it hit her: it was the right thing to do. It had been a while since Santana did a truly good thing on her own free will, and the feeling that it felt inside her was strange, yet good.

Sighing, Santana headed home, knowing what she had to do next.


	65. Chapter 65

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". Not gonna lie, I forgot all about this chapter. Um, enjoy?

**P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.**

* * *

><p>Kurt shuffled through the closed, yet unlocked door of New Directions. It wasn't open yet, but he knew Schue was famous for coming an hour early to get everything cleaned up and set before the crew came and got ready for the night.<p>

And just as he suspected, Will Schuster stood in between the tables, sweeping up the floor and turning chairs upright.

"Excuse me?" He cleared his throat.

"Sorry, but we're not open for a few more hours." Schue looked up, surprised. "Oh. Hey Kurt. How's Mr. and Mrs. Finn Hudson?"

Kurt smiled. "Perfect, as ever. Carelessly enjoying their honeymoon."

"Well, that's great. They make a lovely couple. So, what can I do you for?"

Kurt clapped his hands, biting his lip softly. "Well, Rachel mentioned something about you needed an opening act, and I was wondering if that position had been filled."

"Well, it just so happens we are looking for one, and though many have tried out, I just haven't found the right voice yet. But please, feel free to sign up for an audition."

"Perfect. Now alright?"

Schue looked at his watch. "Now seems like an alright time. If you wanna check out some songs, I can hook up the karaoke machine."

Kurt raised a hand, shushing him. "No need. I got one handy. "Black Bird" by the Beatles."

Schue raised a brow, laughing joyfully. "Well then, the stage is yours."

Handing Schue the CD, Kurt walked upon the small stage, stopping in the middle. It was the first time he step foot on a stage since his last performance at CO's. Waiting for music to start, Kurt turned, and just like that, he was in front of the crowd, and he sang his heart out.

And for the first time since the accident, other than in Blaine's arms, Kurt found where he was meant to be.


	66. Chapter 66

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". It's a Santana chapter, and a pretty long one. Santana finally does the one thing she's been waiting to do for years. Enjoy and please comment to tell me what you thought.

**P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.**

* * *

><p>Santana stood still, looking up at the giant building she was about to go in. It wasn't that she was scared of the building itself, though it used to represent everything bad in her life sometime ago, it was the person inside that frightened her. Almost ten years ago to the month, she was torn from her life and kicked out of her house like a pile of trash. And where she was years later, coming for a visit. Her reason: she really didn't have one.<p>

But after everything that's happened to her, with Kurt and David, and how easy Sam was ready to throw away such a good life because of one fight with his girlfriend, Santana realized it was time to make amends.

Taking a deep breath, Santana walked into the hospital, and began her search. It was almost exactly as she remembered, except for some minor details added on. Her father always wanted a bigger and better hospital for Ohio, so Santana wasn't surprised when she noticed a new children's center and ER area.

Searching for her father wasn't as easy as Santana thought it would be. Who knew if he was even here? If he were, he could've also been in surgery or seeing a patient. Maybe coming without notice wasn't the best idea. . . . But what could she do? Not like she could just call them up and tell them she was coming! They'd probably move before she got there. . .

Finally, Santana gave up and asked one of the nurses.

"Excuse me," She spoke. The nurse looked up from her paperwork and stared at her. "Can you tell me where Dr. Lopez is?"

"Dr. Lopez?" The nurse repeated.

"Yeah. Horatio Lopez. Is he on today? Does he even work here?" Santana forgot about the possibility of him retiring. _Damn! Now I'll have to go to the house!_

"No, he's . . . he's here. Are you any relation to him?"

"I'm . . . he's my father."

The nurse's eyes opened wide, her expression shocked. "_Santana_!"

Santana cocked her head, pondering. "Yes?"

With in a moment, the nurses arms were around her small frame, and her cheek was being kissed and pinched. "Oh my, lord! It's been years! I can't believe how big you've gotten! You're a grown woman!"

"Um, thank you?"

The nurse backed up, though her smile remained wide. "Gosh, you probably don't remember me. I'm Shirley. I used to work beside your father when you were a little girl. I used to give to lollypops to bring to the terminal patients."

The light bulb over Santana's head went off in an instant. She was older, twenty pounds heavier, and her red hair was now a mixture of orange and gray, but it was definitely Shirley "Crap! Oh my - I can't believe it!"

"It's been so long, sweetie. What are you doing here?"

"I'm . . . I'm here to see my dad."

"Well, of course you are. It's been forever since you visited. He's in the children's wing; come on, I'll take you."

Taking her hand, Shirley led Santana all around the hospital, asking question after question, until they reached the children's wing. Horatio Lopez sat at the head of the circle, rainbow carpet, reading aloud to the young kids.

Santana sighed at the sight; the memory of her fourteen year old self reading to the kids crept back into her mind.

"He spends almost his entire day here." Shirley explained. "If he's not in surgery, or a meeting, or working with adult patients, he's with the children. It's been that way ever since they built this place."

"How long ago was that?"

Shirley thought about it for a moment. "Oh, about a year or so after you left. It broke his heart, you know, to see you leave like that. He was never the same."

Santana stared through the glass door, watching aimlessly as her father smiled and played with the children. It seemed so long ago that she was a child getting his attention. Turning away, Santana walked slowly down the hall.

"Honey, where are you going? I thought you wanted to see him?" Shirley questioned, hot on her tail.

"I do." She answered. "But I can't." Shirley cocked his head. "Look at him, Shir, look how happy he is. He doesn't deserve to have his screw up daughter walk back into his life."

"Sweetie, it's not like that." Shirley tried to assure her, but Santana wasn't buying it.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here. Please, don't tell him I was here." And with that said, Santana took off down the hall.

Running outside one of the smoking exits, Santana leaned over the railing, taking a deep breathe. She hadn't expected it to be so hard, and she didn't even speak to him yet. Despite what Shirley said, her dad was happy, and he didn't deserve having her randomly pop up unexpectedly back into her life.

Driving herself sick, Santana ran to the nearest garbage and threw up whatever was left from after she threw up on the plane. Walking back into the hospital, Santana made her way to the elevator, hoping to leave the hospital and find a hotel she could sleep in.

Turning the corner, Santana blindly bumped into one of the orderlies, who dropped several flies of reports. Bending, she and several others began picking the papers up.

"Sorry. Sorry." She told them, handing them back to the orderly. Coming to her feet, Santana fixed her purse strap before getting ready to head off.

"Santana?" A voice from behind said. Turning slowly, she found herself face to face with Chief of Staff, Horatio Lopez, her father. They stood there in silence, both wearing shocked expressions upon their faces.

"Hi, Daddy." She said softly.

"Oh, Santana!" With two simply strides, her father wrapped his arms around her tightly, embracing her. It was unexpected, to say the least, but Santana hugged back with the same amount of force. "How - baby, I'm so happy to see you."

"Hi, Daddy." She repeated, warm tears running down her cheeks.

Pulling back, Horatio smiled brightly. "What are you doing here!"

"I came to see you. We need to talk. I'm so sorry, daddy.'

"Shh, _mija_." Looking her up and down, Horatio laughed. "Look at you! All grown up! Come! Let's talk."

Taking her hand, Horatio led his daughter to the cafeteria where they began talking. He told her all about the renovations to the hospital, while she talked all about her life in the city. Although she didn't get into much detail on what she actually did there, she talked about CO's. And about Brittany and Kurt.

Horatio was happy to hear this. Though it caused him great pain tossing her out, he regretted it ever since. He even explained how he went searching for her once, only to come up empty handed. Santana smiled at that, surprised at the action.

"Have you seen your mother yet?" He asked, sipping his coffee.

"No," Santana admitted. "I came straight here."

"_Perfecto_! I'll tell Dr. White that I'm leaving for the day, and we'll head out."

Santana remained silent as her father left to inform the others about his absence. She was going home. Really home. Back to the house in which she was removed from so many years ago. Her blood began to boil with fear. How would her mother react to her being back? Would she be pleased, like her father, or numb towards her? Santana figured there was only one way to know.


	67. Chapter 67

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". Another small Klaine chapter. I actually think there are only three more Klaine chapters before the story is over (counting the epi'). Anyway! Enjoy and please comment!

**P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.**

* * *

><p>"Lord, I can't remember being this nervous!" Kurt peeped out behind the curtain at New Directions. It was his first night of opening for Rachel, and he was anxious as ever. It was a simple act: three songs and then you're off. Rachel was always generous when it came to duets, so the possibility of doing one with her was high, so he'd be on stage for a good portion of the night.<p>

"Chill, dude, you're gonna be great." Puck assured, appearing beside him with guitar in hand.

"You have all your sheet music, right? Not forgetting anything?"

"I may be a bartender, Hummel, but I'm not dumb. Let me worry about the music, you just take care of the singing. Got it?"

"Yes, yes. We're on, by the way."

Pulling the guitar strap around himself, Puck made his way onto stage.

Finn, who rushed from the back room, slid beside him to get to his drum set. "Break a leg, sparky." He whispered to Kurt.

Kurt closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. It was time. Looking to his right, he saw Schue, who silently counted to three, then gave him the OK sign. Kurt stepped onto the stage, the lights partly blinding him.

"_I got sunshine, on a cloudy day. When it's cold outside, I got the month of May._"

"Let's go, Kurt!" Looking out to the crowd, between the lights and the sea of faces, Kurt found Blaine. He was smiling proudly in the back beside Brittany, who was clapping joyfully.

"_I guess, you say, what can make me feel this way? My girl (my girl, my girl), talkin' bout my girl (my girl). I go sooo much honey, the bees envy meeeeee. I got a sweeter song, than the birds in the trees_."

"We love you, Kurt!" Brittany called.

Laughing, Kurt continued to sing, loving the feeling his friends and the crowd were giving him.

"_What can make me feel this way? My girl (my girl, my girl), talkin about my girl!_"


	68. Chapter 68

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". Hello my friends! Here is one of the final Santana chapters I have to give. I hope you enjoy it and feel free to comment and tell me what you think.

**P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.**

* * *

><p>If there was one thing Santana would never forget about her mother, it was that despite her glorified career, social status, and motherly instincts, she was nothing more than a big child. She loves the color pink, flowers, shiny objects, and her family.<p>

The moment she and her father walked into the house, she heard her mother's voice. She was coming down the stairs, talking on her phone to one of her designers, working on one of her projects, when she spotted them. The phone from her hand dropped as she stared in shock. Screaming bloody murder, Gloria Lopez, in her six inch heels, ran to the door, wrapping her arms around her daughter, and cried like a baby, all while going back and forth between English and Italian.

"What are you doing here!" She finally demanded, cupping Santana's face.

"I came to see you and Daddy."

"Come, come! You must sit. Ooh, my baby, look at you! All grown up! And so fashionable! Oh, you take after me perfectly!"

Sitting in the living room, Santana answered all their questions. She told them she got clean within a year after being thrown out. She would've come home if it wasn't for her stubbornness and the fact she was sure they didn't want her there.

That broke Gloria's heart the most. Despite all the trouble she and Horatio went through, Santana was still her little girl. The day she left the house still played in her head from time to time.

Again, she told them about Kurt, and Brittany, and about the city. She told them she was a headliner at a club, but nothing more than that. And when her mother asked her if she had a special someone, Santana frowned and said no.

Feeling lightheaded, Santana excused herself. Gloria suggested she go rest in her old bedroom while she made lunch, and the three of them could talk some more.

Santana was surprised to find her bedroom exactly the way it was when she first left. From the way she left her stuffed animals arranged to the Spice Girl posters upon the wall.

"Your mother didn't have the heart to change it." Horatio explained from the door way. "She always hopes you'd come back."

"I'm so sorry, Daddy." Santana said miserably, slumping down on her bed. "I've caused to much pain to people. I don't deserve the kindness I'm getting."

"Oh, _mija_," Horatio entered the door, and knelt before his daughter. "That is not kindness, that is love." Santana cocked her head, her jaw opening slowly. "We have all done horrible things, Santana. Nobody is perfect. Not even me. I turned my only daughter to the streets."

"But it was my fault! I had the addiction. You tried everything!"

"But did everything, work? No. Maybe there was something I could've done to prevented it, or to keep it from coming back. I don't know, _mija_. But lemme tell you something, I've never forgotten about you. Not a day went by there I wasn't thinking of your laugh, or your smile, or your beautiful singing voice. I always prayed you come back to us, Santana, and you have. And I welcome you back, and I always will, because I love you. And that's part of love is, _mija_, forgiveness and never looking back at what could've been."

Santana remained still, listening to the words she feared she'd never hear, spoken by the man she never thought she'd see again. And just like that, all the pain she was withholding from the accident with Kurt, the fight with David, and incident with her parents all those years ago was finally set free. Falling into her father's arms, Santana cried helplessly.

Horatio held his daughter close, cooing and rubbing her back, calming her as she cried aimlessly on him. Lifting her to his lap, he cradled his little girl, something he thought he'd never do again.

"Shh, Papa is here, _mija_, I'm here."

Santana was silent for a moment, before jerking forward, crying out in pain.

"Santana! Santana, baby, what's wrong?"

"I . . . I'm gonna be sick!"

Scrambling to her feet, Santana ran into the bathroom, throwing up fiercely, before passing out onto the cold marble floor, her parents cries of urgency growing smaller and smaller.


	69. Chapter 69

**A/N:** Based Britney Spears "Gimme More". The chapters are winding down, people! Here is the final David/Wes scene! Please enjoy, only a few more to go!

**P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.**

* * *

><p>David sighed as he hung the frame against his wall. It contained his first, and probably only, front page story. It was an amazing feeling, to see his story on the front page; his name in big, bold letters. So for long, that's all David really wanted. What he thrived for. Now that he had it . . . it didn't taste as sweet as he thought it would.<p>

Hearing the door open and close, David left his room. Blaine didn't get off work for a few more hours and Kurt went into the club early to help set up. To his great surprise, it was neither of them. Standing by the island was Wes. He was dressed in his suit and tie, looking sharp as business-y.

"Hey," David said slowly, entering the living room.

"Hey! Look at you." He scanned David up and down. He was wearing sweats and dark blue tee shirt. "Day off?"

"Yeah. What are you doing here?"

"Can't an old friend come for a visit?" Wes asked, walking around the island. "I came to see if you and Blaine wanted to go out tonight. There's a new bar in town and I was hoping to check it out."

"I can't. I have to be at the paper early tomorrow, and I think Blaine has plans with Kurt."

Wes rolled his eyes, lifting one of the apples from the fruit basket. "Congrats, by the way. Heard you made front page. Can't wait to read it."

Walking back around the island, Wes took a look around the apartment. "I see Kurt spiced the place up a bit. It always was a bit bland, considering it was a bachelor pad." Wes turned to face his friend. "So tell me, how is the cute couple?"

"In love, Wes." David informed him.

"Love." He stated, half frowning. "Hey! I have a great idea! A singles night. Just you and me? Get some drinks, pick up some girls, what do ya say?"

"I don't think so, Wes. Now if you wouldn't mind-"

"Come on! It'll be fun! Just like the old days!"

"No, Wes. Look, I have a lot of shit to do, so if you could go, that would be great."

Wes stopped and stared at David. "Oh, I get it." He said suddenly. "You're still mad at me for what happened at the club. With Santana."

"Okay, it's time for you to leave." David ordered.

"Look, I'm sorry, alright? But what am I supposed to do? I was half drunk, horny, and she was ready to sell. If you're gonna blame anybody, blame her."

"Shut up, Wes." David warned.

"Then again, she can't help being a whore. I mean, it's who she is."

"Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!"

The room remained silent after his outburst. David was never one for fighting, but god dammit, he was angry. Whether he was pissed at her or not, nobody was gonna call Santana names. Nobody!

"Chill out, bro. Jeez, even when you're broken up, the bitch still has you tied around her finger."

"Stop it. Now." David sighed, running his hands through his hair. "Why did you do it?" He asked.

"Do what?"

"Sleep with Santana? Why did you continue to buy her, knowing we were together? Why did you continue to go after her? I thought we were friends."

"She's just some chick, Dave."

"Answer the question, Wesley."

Wes took to his hand, which was clenching the apple. Tossing it carelessly, he caught it, looking up. "Simple. I was raised to know I deserve everything. I came from a rich family, went to the best schools. I got partner a year after graduating law school. I had it all."

"Everything, but Santana."

"She was the best of the bunch, David. Whether she was used or not, she was still the best, and I deserve the best."

"So my feelings didn't matter to you?"

Wes laughed, tossing the apple from hand to hand. "You're a grown man, David. The only feelings I have to worry about are want and need." Wes took a bit of the apple, the juices slowly dripping down his chin. He quickly wiped it away. "So I fucked her? So what! If she was as loyal as she said, then she wouldn't have sold her find ass in the first place. Don't blame me because she'd rather have a good fuck and make three bills than be with you."

Making his way to the door, Wes took another bite. "Look at it this way, now that you know the truth, you can move on with your life. Maybe actually get one? I mean, face it Dave, if it was me against you, well, there's no contest buddy." Grabbing the door, Wes pulled it shut. "Later," he muffled before leaving.

David stood along in his apartment, feeling lower than low. Maybe he wasn't worth a lot, but he definitely wasn't worth nothing. And no matter what Wes wanted to believe, he wasn't any better than David. And he never would be.


	70. Chapter 70

**A/N:** Okay, guys! It's the second to last (full) chapter Santana will have before the end. Only about four more to go! Okay, please comment and tell me what you to think. And for all you people predicting you-know-what about Santana...well...Surprise?

**P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.**

* * *

><p>Santana pushed and shoved her way through Cheeri-Ohs!, trying to get to Sue's office in one piece. It was busy and the place with beyond packed. With the lights going on and off and the music blaring, Santana was having a hard time getting to her destination. Part of her just wanted to scream and knock people out of the way, but she couldn't do that anymore. She couldn't take the chance of something fighting back.<p>

It was quite ironic, to be honest. She never saw herself as the bridal type. Having a family; living the life so many women do. David gave her a glimpse of that life, and for a moment she thought it was possible. But then she remembered who she was, and the life she was living, and that white picket fence dream went out the window.

But to her great surprise, she was left with a small, parting gift. All the signs were there, but she chose to ignore them. Figured they were caused by stress and from taking the sleeping pills. Never in a million years did Santana think she'd be pregnant. But she was. And from her dad's calculations, it was David's.

He didn't know, of course. Nobody did. And she wasn't going to let anyone find out. Thankfully, do to some miracle gene she inherited from her mother, Santana barely showed. It looked as it she merely put on a little weight, when in fact she was four months pregnant. Her parents insisted her telling the father and thinking of what she was going to do, but Santana already knew. This was her problem, and she was going to take care of it. But before she could, she had to speak with Sue. She obviously couldn't keep performing with a bun in the oven, so she had to make some kind of deal.

She was just about to turn the corner when she heard her name being called. Wes stood with a drink in his hand. Santana noted his eyes were glassy and he smelled of beer and whiskey.

"Hey there, cutie. Didn't know you were working tonight." His words slurred, his movements were ridged.

"I'm not." Santana told him.

"Oh well then, how about a dance on the house?"

"Not now, Wes."

Santana turned to leave, but Wes grabbed her by the arm. "Come on, sexy, you know you want to. Just you and me, on the dance floor. Afterwards we can go to one of those back rooms and boogie woogie all night long." Wes laughed drunkenly. Santana ripped her arm away, feeling disgusted. She turned to leave, but Wes once again stopped her. "Oh, come back! It's not like I haven't already seen that body. Not lookin too good, San. Miss out on yoga?"

"Fuck off, Wes!"

"Oooh I'm just teasing! Now come here," Wes gripped her hard, pulling her towards him. Grabbing his drunk, Santana threw it in his face. Wes stood appalled, and the room suddenly became silent, except for the music.

"You bitch!" He shouted, his slur gone.

Santana stood strong. He could call her any name under the sun, but he sure as hell wasn't gonna treat her like that.

"What the hell is going on here!" Santana turned to find Sue standing in the hallway. "What the hell happened here?" She asked, approaching the two.

"She threw a drink on me!" Wes stated. "All I did was ask her to dance and she went crazy!"

"Fuck you, you fucking liar! Sue, that's not what happened!"

"Oh? And what did?"

"He wouldn't leave me alone and kept grabbing me. I had to knock him off somehow." Sue remained silent, pondering both stories. "You have tapes, just look at them!"

"Shush! Now I've had it up to here with you. You've skipped out on performances, ran away with one of the clients and their money, and then disappeared out of nowhere, only to return and throw a drink at one of the clients. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't let your ass go?"

Santana scampered; this wasn't happening. "Because I've made you more money than anybody else. I'm the best you have and you know it."

"You also cause the most trouble and you tipped off Porcelain's man puppet off about Karofsky buying him. You're fired."

Santana's mind went blank. Suddenly the music got louder and so did the voices. "What?"

"You heard me. Get your ass out of my club. Now!"

Sue made her way back to her office, but not before having two of the bouncers personally toss Santana out of the club. So that was it. She came to do the right thing, got manhandled by an annoying prick, and got fired all in one night. Santana tried to think possible, that it could be worse, but then she realized that impossible that this point.


	71. Chapter 71

**A/N:** Okay! I worked really hard on David's artical, so please don't hate on it too much. It features all the couples (and Wes) reading it; it's really dorky and cheesey. Um, tell me what you thought and please enjoy!

**P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.**

* * *

><p>Kurt lied back, letting the sun shine down on his skin. It had been a week since the trial and all three of his attackers: Martin Baker, Albert Aldrin, and Franklin Kent, were charged and placed in jail for hate crimes and for being on private property (thanks to Sue). Little by little, life was getting back to normal, and knowing the people who turned it upside down were off the streets, made it one hundred times easier.<p>

Seeing as they both had the day off, Blaine suggested they spend the day together, and winded up in Central Park. Kurt was hesitant, at first, but he knew the only way things would get totally back to normal was for him to get out there and not be so scared.

The sun was warm upon his face as he sulked in all the energy it had to offer. Spring was close to ending and with summer approaching, the days were getting warmer and warmer, much to Kurt's pleasure. He loved the heat, though he preferred to stay inside most days.

The sun disappeared for a moment, causing Kurt to open his eyes. Fuzzy from squinting, Kurt saw the shadow's face.

"Looky what I found," Blaine smiled from above. Sitting down beside him, Blaine showed Kurt, who groaned softly as he came into a sitting position, the newspaper he was holding. The title: "'_Love By Any Other Name' by David Porter_."

"Omigod! It's David's article! Open it! Open it!"

Blaine laughed, opening the paper to the first page, finding the article David had been working on for several months. It featured reviews, stories from ordinary people talking about love, and the piece David had written.

""_Love By Any Other Name' by David Porter._" Blaine cleared his throat, beginning to read. "_I was going to write this article on the dark side of night clubs and the cruel and devious ways of those who work there, but something came up. A friend of mine, someone kind and friendly, who never said a bad word to anyone, was attacked one late evening some time ago. His life almost lost due to the carelessness and think headedness of those who didn't like his lifestyle. It changed him, you see, and it changed me too. It made me realize how important the little things are and how easy they could go away in a blink of an eye."_

* * *

><p>"<em>Growing up, I was raised to believe love is something you cherish, and something everybody deserves. As a young boy, I had manners and grace." <em>

Brittany appeared by Artie's side, placing his lunch on the table before taking a seat beside him.

"Thank you, sweetie." He spoke, kissing her cheek before going back to the article.

"_Instead of putting gum in girls' hair and showing them toads to get a squirm from them, I treated girls like princesses, just as I was taught. This trait carried on through my teenage years into manhood. Instead of the rest of the guys, who were merely trying to score with girls, I was curious to them, and gave respect to all the young women around me._

_I had a girlfriend - daughter of an old family friend - and everything seemed perfect. Hannah was fair and beautiful. She came from a good family and would have made a great wife. I gave her everything she ever wanted, but to my great dismay, she wanted everything but me. She traded me away for another and I was left alone in the dust._

_Not long after, I began to ponder if love wasn't meant for everyone, and that I wasn't really in love with Hannah, but that I was in love with love itself. Slowly, but surely, I began to lose hope. Pushing away my attempt to find the girl I was meant to be with, I stuck my head into my writing and went to school. I succeeded greatly and graduated with honors, moving into a fantastic apartment in a wonderful neighborhood with my best friend. I got a job at the paper and started my new life_."

* * *

><p>"<em>That was, until an ex-friend of my decided to take me and our buddy to the hottest place around: Club Cheeri-Ohs!"<em>

Wes sat in his desk, reading the daily news paper, instead of looking over his files like he meant to.

"Your coffee, Mr. Sullivan." Clara, his assistant placed the cup in front of him. Wes waved her away, too involved in the article.

"_You see, it's not a normal club, nor is a strip club; its more of a modern burlesque club. The performers would dance around and sing popular songs, all while slowly losing clothing inch by inch. Afterwards they'd come and mingle, and then go on their merry way. _

_There were three that caught the most attention. The perky Charity, who was sweet as pie. The perfect Porcelain, who was witty as he was charming. And then there was Lolita, who stole and crushed the hearts of hundreds of men with just one look. For all those who know the 2001 film, Moulin Rouge!, Lita was a living and breathing Satine; adding on more sass and a tough exterior."_

* * *

><p>"<em>She was almost the perfect woman. Attractive, smart, talented, strong willed, and above all, she was a fighter. Tons of men gave her money, including myself. Ironically, I got into a fight with a friend over her and somehow I came out triumphant."<em>

Finn sat in bed, reading the paper aloud to himself and his new bride. They didn't have to be in the club until late that night, so the two spent their morning ajusticing to their new, queen sized mattress. With the sheets wrapped around herself, Rachel leaned into her husband, to kissed her head softly before continuing to read

"_We got together and my heart began to sing again. She was everything I could've ever wanted. All except for one thing: she refused to give up her life at the club. At first that was fine for me. It was her job and her life before me, and we had just begun to see one another. Asking her to change would've been too selfish. But soon the jealousy got too much of me. I remember staying up at night, wondering who she was with and what they were doing. The pain was almost too unbearable._

_We were together for almost a year when we came to an end. It happened during a fighting, which started due to my jealous over her dancing with another man. I told her she deserved better, but she wouldn't listen. And then I told her I loved her. She froze at that, not expecting it. It wasn't the first time I had said it, but it was definitely the most meaningful out of others. When she didn't say it back, I lost it. With my fingers digging into her skin, I began to shake her, begging her to say it. But she didn't. With my head held high, I left the apartment and never came back_."

* * *

><p>Santana sat alone in her apartment. So busy with packing boxes and making arrangements, she almost missed the morning paper. She wasn't one to read much, but this particular front page caught her eye.<p>

"_I should've known from the beginning that it wasn't going to work out. I was in love with love and she was in love with the night. Our paths would never end the same way. But for everything its worth, I don't regret a second of the time I spent with her. I fell in love with Santana, and that's a love I doubt I will ever forget. Maybe I'll move on and find someone more compatible or maybe I'll live alone with my laptop, and watch in a bitter sweetness as all my friends live happily ever after. Either way, the memories served me well, even the bad ones._

_I didn't write this article to tell you about my depressing love life and I didn't write it to get publicly either. I wrote it to tell you - no matter what happens in life, where you go, or where you end up, or who you end up with - to cherish the small things. Love isn't something to bargain with. It's not something you can buy or deny. It's a feeling; the only feeling stronger than hate. As melodramatic as it may sound, when you have love, you can overcome anything. Whether it's a disability holding you back from do something, or jumping back into the game after life changing experience. Or even depression_."

Santana lowered the article onto the bed, her mind wheeling. With her emotions getting the best of her, Santana closed her eyes, and clutched her stomach, who was slowly beginning to form into small, round shape.

* * *

><p>"<em>Love can change you for the good. It's something you shouldn't turn your back on, and it's something you should have until the very end. Because without love, what is there? Absolutely nothing<em>."

"I couldn't have said it better myself." Kurt said, pulling Blaine in for a sweet, loving kiss, not caring who was around to see.


	72. Chapter 72

**A/N:** Can't believe I'm saying this, but this is the final Klaine chapter before the epilogue. Byyyyyyy the way. I've been posting a Klaine Only ver' of this on the site Scarves&Coffee, and have come to see that technically, they are more Klaine chapters than Davana. (Klaine: 45, Davana: between 27-32) So all those of you who were almost complaining about how there was more Davana than Klaine... Look who's laughing now?

**P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.**

* * *

><p>When Blaine Anderson was a little boy, his grandmother told him to take his best memory and save it in the bottle, so it would never be forgotten. Back when, he thought it was when he got his first solo or when he wore his first blazer. But now, all those memories are overshadowed by ones involving Kurt. He became a ray of excitement in Blaine's small, boring life. And throughout all the good and bad, and everything in-between, Kurt was there for him, and vice versa.<p>

So whether it be working on Kurt's clothing line in Milan or in Los Angeles open his wedding planning business; or even just staying in New York, heading over to Ohio from time to time to visit family; they would be together. And no matter what anybody said, they were made for each other. Soul mates, through and through.

The sun hit down on his chest gently as the two lie in bed one early morning. Blaine's eyes were closed as Kurt lied half on top of him, drawing small circles across his bare chest, as he whispered in his ear.

What he was saying? Silly little things. How cute Blaine looked when he slept. How soft the small hairs on his chest feel against Kurt's fingers. Blaine smiled, moaning softly. It was mornings like these that made him grateful for the small things.

Finally, Kurt said something different. "I have a surprise for you." He murmured in Blaine's ear.

"Oh?" Blaine raised a brow, though his eyes remain shut.

"Stay here," Kurt said, jumping quickly off the bed.

Blaine remained still, his arms behind his head as he snuggled against the mattress. He pondered on what Kurt's surprise was. Maybe something naughty, like a new toy or maybe even whip cream. Maybe a pet? Blaine always wanted a puppy. Maybe a new-

Blaine's eyes snapped open the moment the sound hit his ears. Kurt stood in the doorway; strapped to him was Blaine's guitar. Blaine sat up in shock, his jaw dropping. Kurt walked forward, strumming slowly, a playful smile across his face.

"I never took lessons," Kurt admitted, pulling the guitar from around his neck. "Vocal instruments were more my specialties."

"I-I . . . how? This . . . is it really mine?" Blaine questioned, taking the guitar, lying it out across his lap. Every detail, every design, it fit his perfectly.

"Your one and only." Kurt said. "See," flipping the guitar over, Kurt showed the small "_BA_" that was carved on the back.

"But . . . How? How did you buy it back from Ernie? He would've charged twice what I had to give."

Kurt took the seat beside him, smiling victoriously. "Ah, well here's the best part: I didn't buy it." Blaine cocked his head. "It just so happens that Mr. Canadeo is a big football fan. And seeing as I happen to know a professional football player, I set up a little meet and greet. Ironically, it turns out he has a football-loving gay nephew. Long story short: he and Dave have officially become a couple. And since it was his favorite nephew and I brought them together, Ernie wanted to thank me."

"And you got him to give it to you? Just like that?"

"Well, it took some persuading, he seemed to get how much it meant to you. Besides, from what I overheard, he just bought Eric Clapton's guitar and is flying over to England to pick it up. Long story short: he won't be missing yours."

Blaine sat in silent, staring how at his long-lost item. His favorite item. Back when he was selling it, in his heart he knew it was the right thing. He never thought he'd see it again, and yet, here it was. All because of Kurt. He knew he had to thank Dave for helping out, but right now, he had something more important to do.

"I love you." He said simply, pulling Kurt closer.

They kissed softly, resting his foreheads together as they pulled away. With their fingers entwined, their matching silver things caught the light and began to sparkle. The two noticed it and began to smile. It was amazing how something so small could made something so amazing. But then again, love had the same effect.


	73. Chapter 73

**A/N:** Omigod, man! I can't believe I'm actually posting it! Guuuuuyssssss! It's the final Davana chapter! I know only like...three people are excited about this, but omigod, I can't believe it's over! *Fans face, wiping tears* Okay. I got this! Please enjoy the final Davana chapter. The epilogue will be up in a few days. Thank you all so much.

**P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.**

* * *

><p>Santana huffed and puffed, placing the last of the boxes on the floor. It had been a long three days of packing, but she was finally almost done. After losing her job, Santana realized that aside from Kurt and Brittany, she didn't have much holding her in New York anymore. She decided it would be best to move back to Ohio with her parents, who were more than thrilled of the thought of their grown-up little girl coming back home. They had missed out on a lot, and now it was time to make it all up.<p>

She would miss the nightlife, of course. All the different people, and shows, and just the city itself, but Santana it were for the best. She would go home, have the baby, and raise it there. She wouldn't bother anybody ever again. She wouldn't make any mistakes. She was gonna get her life together; for good this time. A fresh start.

Santana groaned at the sound of the doorbell. Straightening herself, she went and opened the door. With her jaw dropped, she stared at her visitor.

"David. . . ."

"Hey," he breathed. "Can I come in?"

Santana said nothing as she stepped back and opened the door, allowing him to enter. "What . . . What are you doing here?" She asked dazed.

"I heard you were moving out." He looked around and spotted the boxes. "Where are you going?"

"Ohio." She told him. "Who told you I was leaving?"

"Kurt." He admitted.

Santana made not to tell a single soul she was leaving until she was already gone. How the hell did Kurt. . . ? And then she remembered. The day before she started packing, Kurt came over to ask her to lunch. She felt nauseous and wanted to get everything together, but went anyway. A small, secret goodbye, so to say. When Kurt questioned the boxes, she lied and said she was just getting rid of some old stuff. Who knew the guy could see straight thought that! And who knew he'd tip off her ex. When she gets her hands on him. . . .

"Why are you leaving New York?" David asked, pulling her away from her thoughts.

Santana moved away, making sure he couldn't get a good look at her. She went to her window and gazed out lazily. "I'm moving back with my parents," she explained.

"You're in your twenties."

"And my parents and I lost almost ten years together. It's time to make up for it."

"But why? Why leave when you have everything here?"

Santana laughed bitterly, turning to face him. "I have nothing here, David. I lost my job last week."

"Why?"

"For a hundred and one different reasons. But your good friend Wesley was the one that put the hit the nail on the head. He got all prissy cause I would dance with him. He got grabby, I threw a drink. Five minutes later, I was jobless. Woopty-fucken-doo."

"You can find other jobs! It's New York City! Whether it's singing or dancing, you'll find it!"

Santana shook her head, smiling small. It was nice to see he still cared.

"What about Kurt? And Brittany! They're your best friends, you can just pick up and leave them!"

"Like you said, they're my best friends. They'll understand."

"Well what about. . ." David scampered for words, trying to find the right thing to say. "What about me?"

"David . . . we've been broken up for months."

"So! That doesn't mean I don't still care about you!"

"David, I-"

"I'm still angry at you. You hurt me so much, Santana. Like you stabbed me in the heart over, and over, and over again."

"I know that, David."

"But whether you like it or not, I said I loved you, and I meant it! I still do!"

"David, I lo-"

"So please! If you're gonna leave. If you're just gonna walk out of here, at least me honest and tell me why."

Santana as silent for a moment. Her eyes glistened with wet tears and her smile was cracked. "I love you too, David." She said, just a bit higher than a whisper.

"What?" He asked, dumbfounded.

"I love you." She repeated. "I have loved you for so long. Probably longer than you think."

"I love you, too." David replied softly.

"I was scared." She admitted. "I was scared to love you, because I hurt so many people. My parents, my friends. Everyone I love gets hurt so . . . I wanted to stay where I was. I wanted to keep being Lita. But with you, I couldn't be that girl. Because with you, I was Santana. And I was afraid to be her, because then I had to come to terms with the fact that I'm a horrible, horrible person and a screw up."

David was closer in a flash. Pulling her in, he cupped her cheek. "No. No, no, no. Baby, you were never those things. No matter what you believe, you were never horrible and never a screw up. We've all done bad things, but we make up for them. You're perfect, baby. So perfect."

Santana pulled away, wiping the tears from her eyes. "But I am a screw up. I've done so many things wrong. You don't even know."

"Santana, whatever happened, you can tell me. I'm here for you. Baby, I love you."

Stepping back, Santana pulled off her sweatshirt, revealing her tight tank top and slightly round belly. Though it didn't show the proper age, her belly was definitely starting to show. So Santana made sure to wear bigger clothing and stay inside most of the time.

"This is why I have to leave!" Santana explained. "I need to leave and start over. I need to have a normal life, with no regrets and no sorrow. I can't stay here, and live like that."

David remained silent, his eyes never leaving her belly. Sighing, she reached for her sweatshirt, hoping to put it back on. David stopped her.

"No!" Grabbing the shirt, he pulled it from her head. "We're . . . we're having a baby?"

"You don't know that." She said quickly. "I fucked a lot of people, remember? I don't know who the father is."

"Don't do that." David snapped. "Don't put your guard up. Not now!" Stepping closer ,David looked her straight in the eye. "This is my baby. I know it."

Santana turned away, cold tears running down her face. "Please let me go." She whispered.

"How far along are you?"

Santana breathed deeply, wiping her nose. "Almost five months." She told him. "I didn't find out though until a couple weeks ago."

"So, after we broke up?"

"Just about."

"Why are you so thin?"

"Um, some gene my mom passed down. I'm five months, though I look maybe two? When I'm nine, I'll probably look about six. But don't worry, it's perfectly healthy. It's even starting to kick a little bit."

David smiled proudly, his eyes staring down at the bump that was growing inside the woman he loved.

"I'm still leaving, David." She told him. "I'm not letting you stop me. I need to do this."

"Then I'm coming with you." He stated.

"You have a life here, David. A job and your friends. You got front page."

"Exactly. I got what I always wanted. Now I want something different. Something bigger and better."

"And what's that?"

"You." He said. "I want you. I want to marry you, and live in a big house with you, and raise this child and two others. I wanna have a dog, and a cat. Maybe a pony. I'm not sure yet, but we'll figure it out as we go along."

Santana was crying again. But she was smiling and even laughing, so David figured they were tears of joy.

"Give me that, Santana. It's all I ask for. Let me have those things and you'll have everything in return."

"I'll hurt you."

"Probably. And I'll hurt you too. We'll say mean things and cry and bitch, but we'll move on and live happily ever after." David stepped closer, taking his hand. "Marry me. Because without you, I have nothing. As cheesy as it sounds, you're the only thing I have keeping me here. So please, marry me. And let me follow you."

Santana said nothing, for there were no words to say. With tears running down her cheeks, Santana gave him a nod. Pulling her into him, David kissed her deeply, having tears of his own beginning to form. As they pulled away, Santana took his hand and placed it flat against her belly. They remained still for a moment, then jumped in surprise as a small _thump!_ hit against David's hand.

Wrapping her arms around him, Santana held David close. She wasn't exactly sure what would happen, but she knew one thing for certain: the girl who never thought she'd have the fairy tale life finally found her prince.


	74. Epilouge

**A/N:** Wow. Omigod. Geez, I can't believe it's over. I still remember the day I decided to write this. I know we've been through a lot; a lot of drama, and anger, and tears, but there was also happiness and joy. Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. Thank you for caring, and sharing, and pretty much rooting me on. If it weren't for you, I'd honestly have no reason for writing in the first place. Anyway, please enjoy and thank you all forever.

**P.S, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, the show would be VERY different. I also do not own Britney Spears' song, as it belongs to Britney Spears.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Two Years, Six Months, and Seventeen Days Later<strong>_

Kurt checked himself in the mirror, making sure everything was in perfect order. No pimples, pores, or anything. The small scar across his across his head remained, though it didn't bother him much. He used to hide it with make-up, but his husband insisted he stopped, saying he looked hot with it. Anything to please Blaine, Kurt figured.

It was Friday night at New Directions and business was boppin. Finn was finishing up his rendition of Jessie's Girl, while his very pregnant wife was following Puck around, making sure all the drinks and orders were put out. After six months of pregnancy, her stomach became too much for her and being a helper waitress was out of the question. That's what happens when a Smurf and the Jolly Green Giant have a baby. . . .

After Finn came Brittany. Schue has originally hired her as a dance instructor, but after noticing her talent in the vocal area, he was more than happy to have her perform all together.

Kurt looked over to his friends, smiling gleefully. After the golden three left, Cheeri-Ohs! went down the tube. With problems with law and with firing and hiring new performers becoming a hassle, Sue skipped town, letting the club go to the dogs. And seeing as business was growing, Schue took advantage of that fact and bought the building out. They got rid of the old, night club look and turned it into a huge dining hall, with a bigger stage. The back rooms became a kitchen and Sue's office became Schue's.

In the end, it was one of the best ideas he ever had.

Kurt made his way to Blaine and the others, who were sitting at their signature table. Blaine was playing with Michael, David's son, as David, Artie, and Brittany looked on, laughing as the baby smacked Blaine over the head with his rattle.

"No hit, Uncle Blaine, Michael." David warned softly.

"So he looks like you and acts like Santana. How ironic." Kurt stated, taking the seat beside his husband.

"Isn't it just?" Santana came around the corner, smiling widely, taking Michael from her husband's arms, sat beside to him, and kissed him sweetly. "Are you being a good boy?"

Two year old quickly nodded. Santana kissed his cheek, causing him to giggle.

"That actually hurt a bit." Blaine said, mostly to himself.

"Aw, my poor hubby." Kurt wrapped his arms around him, kissing the top of Blaine's head. "Britt, you're on!"

Jumping up, Brittany ran to the stage. Everyone huddled close and became silent as the spotlight hit her. The song was bubbly pop and fit her perfectly.

"_What's the worst thing that could happen to you? Take a chance tonight and try something new. You're getting boring you're oh so boring. And I don't recognize the zombie you've turned into._"

"Go Brittany!" Santana shouted, covering Michael's ears for protection.

"I think Brittany finally found her calling," Blaine whispered into Kurt's ear. "Kylie, Brittany, Madonna. She's truly the pop princess of ND."

"I couldn't agree with you more, my dear."

"_Leave you, move on to a perfect stranger. You talk, I walk. Wanna feel the danger? See me with him and its turning you on it's got me saying. Ain't getting me back at the end of this song._"

Brittany grabbed the mic and danced around stage, causing the crowd to cheer. Blaine and Kurt began to move in their seats, joined by Artie and Santana. David gazed down at his son, who was playing cheerfully on the table with his toys.

Jumping off stage, Brittany headed for the table. Taking the baby, David leaned back, allowing Brittany to take Santana's hand and pull her away,, leaving just enough time for her to turn and grab Kurt's hand, leading him onto stage as well.

"_Get outta my way, way. Outta my way, Got no more to say; he's taken your place. Get outta my way!_"

Once on stage, the three danced and sang together just like they did those years ago. Now it was different. No removing of the clothes, no orders to follow. Just sheer fun and joy. Santana took Kurt's hands, moving them back and forth. Kurt laughed, imagining the looks on everybody's faces. They didn't look like professionals. They looked like normal, silly people having the time of their lives.

And that's exactly what they were. And no matter where the hell life took them, they'd always have moments like these. The simple, fun moments. And that's all that mattered.


	75. Where Are They Now?

**HI THERE EVERYONE! So, at a show of hands, who thought this was over? Well, surprise! It's not! I told you all my beta and I were working on something! She kind of walked off the planet, but I decided to finish it up for you guys! Okay, here is there "Where Are They Now" chapter. Sorry if it's a bit short. After this, probably tomorrow, I'm going to post another chapter, that goes even farther into the future. Until then, please enjoy this! Read&Review&Love&Sing!**

* * *

><p><em><strong>FINCHEL<strong>_

Finn knelt on the floor, just at the edge of his bed, staring at the little body sitting before him. Christopher Burt Hudson was just under two years old, and loved to copy his daddy's expressions. Whenever Finn made a surprised face, so would Chris. Whenever Finn would make a sad face, so would Chris. It was the same with mad, silly, scary, and many other expressions.

Named after both of his grandfathers on Finn's side, Chris was definitely a daddy's boy. Being quite large for his age, Chris was everything Finn was as a baby. Adorable, silly, and clumsy as all hell. While his other two children, Andrew Drizzle Hudson (named after Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber, and Drizzle because, well, Drizzle was a badass name) and Barbra Carole (named after Barbra Streisand, of course, and Finn's mother) were doing their own thing (Barbie was doing her very best to be the lead swan in her ballet recital and Andy wanting to make a giant plane and fly it around the world), Chris was perfectly content with being with his daddy.

Hearing the sound of her humming, Finn stood and took hold of his son, leaving the bedroom to greet his wife at the door. Several years had passed since they were blissful young adults, working at some dinner and show place. Now, with a comfy little home in SoHo, both have moved on, and their careers progressed. Finn is now the co-owner of New Directions, along with Will, while Rachel, who still showcases at the restaurant, has become a professional vocal teacher.

Money was good, and both can say they are very, very happy.

Rachel smiled at the sight of her husband and baby, and was more than happy to take Chris in her arms when he reached for her.

"Hello, my beautiful boy!" She gushed, leaning up to kiss her husband. "Have you been a good boy for daddy?"

"He's been perfect, as always. He made a mess during lunch, but it was no big deal."

"Uh oh! Did you start another food fight with daddy?" Rachel held Chris out in front of her, causing him to giggle with delight.

"Yeah, and he got me good. Mashed potatoes right in the eyes."

"Oh, my poor big baby." Getting onto her tippy toes, Rachel kissed Finn's cheek, causing him to blush. "So, where are my other two stars?" She questioned, making her way into the kitchen.

"Well, Barbie has been working on her ballet steps since lunch, and my parents took Andy to the Natural History Museum. Hey! Do you think those things really come to life? I mean, I know it's just a movie, but if so, that's beyond rad."

Rachel smiled up at her husband. Even at the age of thirty-three, he still seems to have the same adorable spunk he had when he was sixteen.

"Mommy coo-kie!"

Rachel fawned a gasp. "Cookie? No cookies for baby. Not before dinner."

"Daddy coo-kie!" Chris pointed to Finn, causing Finn to smile.

"Cookie after dinner, Christopher." Rachel said sternly.

"Daddy!" The baby cried. "Daddy coo-kie, peas! Daddy coo-kie!" The baby chanted over and over again, giving Finn his signature helpless pout. Finn's heart went out to him.

"Oh, come on, Rachel. Just one? Look at that face!"

Rachel sighed, handing the baby over the Finn. "Fine, just one. I swear, our one year old has you wrapped around his finger."

Finn smiled, knowing it was a hundred percent true. Walking over, Finn pulled the lid off the cookie jar, pulling out a small, organically made chocolate chip cookie. With Rachel being a vegan and Finn being pretty much everything, they spit the food down the middle. Finn ate what he wanted and Rachel what she wanted, and the kids had a little bit of both. And although he still prefers the homemade cookies, filled with sugar and fat, the organic ones aren't half bad.

"Here you go, buddy." Finn says, handing Chris his cookie.

The baby cheered and clapped, kissing his father on the cheek before chomping away on his cookie. Rachel watched from the sidelines, loving the feeling she gets when she sees her family in sheer bliss. Being with Finn was never easy. They've had their hardships and their heartaches, but in the end, it was always worth it.

Making her way into their bedroom, Rachel lied back on their bed, closing her eyes, knowing it wouldn't be long until Chris fell asleep and Finn was in bed with her, where he belonged.

* * *

><p><strong><em>KLAINE<em>**

Kurt smiled his perfect business smile, listening and writing all of Maria's demands. She wanted a five star wedding, and that's exactly what Kurt would do for her – crystallized glasses for the champagne, a thirteen layer chocolate cake with pure white cream frosting, and silver and deep blue for the color themes. With all that, plus food, music, and everything for the guest, it was easily gonna come to a bit over a quarter of a million dollars.

Of course, that meant nothing to Maria, whose fiancée just happened to be a New York Yankee. Kurt knew she was a sweet girl, who had a mild case of Bridezilla, but to be perfectly honest, he couldn't wait to have her out of his office. The day had been dragging and all he wanted to do was go home and relax.

Walking into his two-story apartment on the Upper East Side, Kurt could easily hear the music coming from the grand piano before he even opened the door. He smiled at this, knowing it meant one thing: Blaine was home.

Glancing into the fore, Kurt could see the backs of both Blaine and their son, Alexander, who was named after the late and great Alexander McQueen. Alex was Blaine's pride and joy. He had always wanted to be a father growing up, and when they decided to do the whole sergeant mother thing, he was more than happy to volunteer.

And just like his father, Alexander was a master at the art of music. Only six years old, he knows how to play more songs on the piano than Kurt can even name. Sighing happily, Kurt stood in the archway, watching as his two favorite men played "Heart And Soul".

"Daddy!" A small squeal came from the floor. Vienna, their rambunctious four year old, sat on the floor, coloring aimlessly as her father and brother played piano. Jumping to her feet, the little girl ran to her daddy, jumping into his arms. Blaine spun around, a calm smile breaching across his face.

"Did you have fun working with the princesses today?" Vienna asked.

Kurt laughed at that. After taking her to the fittings for one of his brides, Vienna was captivated by the beauty of her, believing her to be princess. Now, whenever Kurt goes off to work, Vi believes he's off to work with another princess.

"I did! And daddy bought you something. Wanna see?" The little girl wiggled with excitement. Putting her down, Kurt kneeled before her, reaching into his bag and pulling out a large, white vale. "Princess Maria thought this one wasn't pretty enough, but I think it'll look absolutely fabulously on you."

Screeching with joy, Vienna placed it on her head, before running over to show Blaine. "Poppy! Look what Daddy gave me!"

Blaine gasps in surprise, admiring his daughter's headgear, "I must say, Vienna, you look like a mini Kate Middleton."

"The princess from Engand!"

"Eng_land_, sweetie, and yes!"

Giggling with delight, Vienna skipped off into her room, going to model herself in the mirror. Kurt shook his head at the thought. Whether they were blood related or not, Vienna was without a doubt Kurt's daughter.

"So, how is practice going?" Kurt asked.

"It went well, actually. Okay, Alex, we're done for the day. Wanna go play in your room?"

"Can I go watch the movie you bought me?"

"Mary Poppins? Of course! Go on ahead; I'll be in to set it up for you." Throwing his arms up in victory, Alex ran to his bedroom, nearly knocking Kurt out down in doing so.

"Alexander Toronto Anderson! No running in the house!" Kurt shouted warningly.

A dim "Sorry, Poppy!" followed afterwards.

Coming to his feet, Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt. "Long day?"

"Always when you're going with divas." Kurt sighed.

"How long until the wedding?"

"Three weeks. Which means up until then, I'll be working in hell." Kurt breathed heavily. He loved his job, but hated the drama of it. "How was Metro?"

"Perfect, as always. I swear, I'm this close to being vise president, I know it." Blaine explained, keeping a small gap between his thumb and pointer finger. "You're headlining tonight, correct?" Kurt nodded in reply. "Excited?"

"Probably not as much as my biggest fan." Kurt gushed teasingly.

"I'll remember to bring the giant foam finger."

"Typical," Kurt pulled his husband forward, kissing him softly.

Blaine was just about to deepen the kiss when he was called upon by their son and Kurt by their daughter. Sighing, they went their separate ways, promising to finish where they left off later.

* * *

><p><strong><em>BARTIE<em>**

Brittany walked around the dance room, watching carefully to see if the boys and girls were doing the moves quickly. Some were doing perfectly, while others kept messing up. She fixed their posture with a firm face before spinning her way to the front of the class, where she leapt perfectly before she landed flawlessly on her toes. Looking up to the clock, she noticed the time and turned back to the group.

"Alright, class. That's enough for today."

Staying behind last, Brittany made sure all the children were picked up by their parents before gathering her things and heading home. Dancing had always been her favorite part of life and she couldn't be happier than to teach it to little kids. She loved dancing and she loved kids, so it was like magic to her. But Saturday mornings filled with complaints and whines were becoming a hassle to the poor girl. Though she always knew no matter how bad it could be, she always had something good to come home to.

Opening the door and stepping into her home, Brittany was greeted by a loud scream and happy laughter, followed by the faint sound of little feet running upon wooden floors. "Mommy!" Her daughter cried joyfully before running into her mother's arms.

"Hello!" Brittany laughed, lifting her daughter up into her arms, carrying her through the house as she searched for her husband. Turning from around the corner, Artie sighed when he spotted his daughter in her arms.

"Oh good." He said, placing a hand over his heart. "I see you found the little monster."

"Tibby's not a monster, are you honey?" Brittany said softly.

Tabitha shook her head slowly, giving a long "Noooo," in response. "Monsters are scary."

"Monsters are scary, right? Monsters go rah!"

"Rawr!" Her daughter shouted, jumping from her mother's arms to her fathers. Artie stumbled as he caught her, falling back against the couch. Brittany gasped, immediately going over to help him, but he waved her off. "I'm fine." He laughed, sitting up slowly. "Enough walking for today."

Taking his cane, which was now lying across the floor, Brittany placed it against the wall before going back to sit with her husband and daughter. It had been a year since Artie's operation, and though he still can't walk for long periods of time, he's made amazing progress. "So how was class today?" He asked, placing his daughter on his lap gently.

Brittany shrugged. "It was okay." She sighed. "I don't like that I can't hit any of the kids, though." She told him sadly. "That Thompson boy is really annoying."

Artie laughed slowly, kissing his wife's cheek. "Sorry, honey."

Shrugging again, Brittany looked to Tabitha. "How was my Itty Bitty today?" She asked, petting her daughters blonde hair gently.

"We had fun today, didn't we, Tibs?"

"Fun, fun!" The one and a half year old said, giggling as her daddy held her close. Learning forward, Brittany kissed her daughter's head, "Mommy promises to play with you soon, okay?"

Lifting a hand, Artie placed it against his wife's back, rubbing up and down slowly. "Soon summer vacation will be here, and then you'll get your weekends back." Pouting, Brittany lied back against Artie's shoulder. Smiling, Artie kissed her head. He knew teaching could be a total bitch, especially when it's for snot-nosed rich brats like Brittany teaches, but Brittany knew what she was doing, and she could handle herself perfectly find against them.

Artie went to speak, but noticed Tabitha had fallen asleep on his lap. Laughing softly, he turned to Brittany. "I think someone's worn out from playing all day." He spoke, though Brittany said nothing. Turning to look at her, Artie saw that she too had fallen asleep. Laughing again, he kissed both their heads, then laying back, closing his eyes, hoping to catch some Z's himself.

* * *

><p><em><strong>DAVANA<strong>_

Santana smiled, leaning back against David's chest and staring off into the horizon. Her long, (now evenly) tanned legs were sprawled out on a lounging chair, tangled with David's since they were on the same chair. It was a tight fit, but Santana honestly wouldn't have it any other way. Besides, what was better than lying on top of your husband in a tropical island as you guys watched the sun set over the sea's horizon?

"This..." Santana quietly said then, "...is the best idea you've ever had. A trip for two in Fiji, while Kurt and Blaine handle the little monsters – total paradise."

The writer laughed and kissed the crown of her head, swinging an arm around her. "Funny, I thought you said you were missing the so called 'little monsters' a few moments ago."

"Shut up, babe. Don't ruin this for me."

David laughed again. "Alright, alright."

The two were silent for a while, taking in their surroundings. The sky was in beautiful tints of purple, gold and red, and the sea's clear blue waters were glistening. The white sandy beach spread out around them as a few people strolled around quietly. A palm tree's bright green leaves fanned above their heads, shading them from the day's earlier heat, though now it was just rustling softly with the breeze. Behind them, the resort they were staying in was beginning to get louder and louder as the night life was starting up. Still, neither made a move to go towards the party goers, content to continue watching the sunset in the peace and quiet of the beach.

There was a strong gust of wind that was too big to be deemed a breeze then. And it made Santana press closer to David, who didn't mind the intrusion to his space, clutching on his wife tighter to keep her warm. Santana was just about to suggest going back to the resort when something next to her poked her side.

And it was such a good dream…

"Mamí?" a voice quietly called.

Santana rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palms, trying to rid of the sleep in them. Turning over to the edge of the bed, towards where the voice came from, she blinked her sleepy eyes open. The sight that greeted her was a blurry (hey, she was still drowsy, alright?) version of her son, Michael.

"Hey, baby," Santana greeted, clearing her voice when it came out raspy. "Come here with Mamí on the bed," she said then, reaching her arms out for her oldest son. Michael easily complied, going into his mother's arms, and Santana lifted him onto the bed once she had enough space for the two of them. She spooned Michael, holding him tightly as she kissed the back of his head, "What's up, Michael?" She spooned Michael then, holding her son tightly as she kissed the back of his head.

Santana shook her head slightly, smiling sympathetically as she did so. She, too, had nightmares when she was younger.

"It's alright, baby. Mamí's right here. Those monsters aren't gonna touch a single hair on your head, okay?"

She felt Michael nodding against her before he turned in her arms, wrapping his slim arms around her torso.

"Hey, there room for three more?" A voice from the door asked.

Both Santana and Michael lifted their heads, turning towards the door. The sight that greeted them was David with their daughter Rosalynne in his arms, and their second son Brighton bouncing on his heels next to him.

Santana grinned. "Nope, only room for two ." Michael giggled quietly next to her, whispering in her ear, "But mamí, you have a bit bed!" Santana hushed him playfully, placing a finger against her lips, the universal signal for "It's a secret!"

Unfortunately, the trick didn't work because some time during the exchange Brighton managed to jump into the bed, exclaiming, "I can fit mamí!"

"Brighton Curtis, stop jumping this instant!" Santana squealed, trying to escape her son's jumping legs. She was unsuccessful, and her threats went ignored. She barely heard her husband over the squeals and laughter, because soon enough Michael was joining in on the fun.

"Boys!" David called out then, "Enough. Mamí's tired, and if you don't stop I won't make you pancakes this morning."

That stopped the two boys.

"Pancakes?" Brighton asked.

David nodded. The two boys looked at each other briefly before dropping into the bed, hugging their mother tightly as they pleaded for pancakes with apologies. Santana threw an annoyed look at David, who was walking towards the bed with Rosalynne, his head thrown back in laughter.

"We're sorry, Mamí," Michael said, "We're sorry!"

"Yeah! We'll be good boys if we have pancakes," Brighton quipped. Santana rolled her eyes.

Michael, being a good boy after pancakes, she could see happening. He was a tiny David anyway: bright, good-natured and level-headed, even if he was only eight. But Brighton, attempting on keeping his end of the deal was defiantly considered to be highly unlikely. He may have only been five years old, but he was the perfect combination of both David and Santana. He was smart like his father and his brother before him, but he was also as devious and wicked as Santana. Already, he had pulled several clever pranks on his older brother and parents in the past month alone. So yeah, Brighton promising he'd be good if he got pancakes was about as empty as his stomach right now.

If it stopped them from harassing her right now though...

"Oh, alright! Alright!" Santana complied. "If you guys get off me, I'll have Daddy make pancakes. Now go brush your teeth and get out of your pj's."

The two sprinted off, only pausing momentarily when they both got caught at the door. She shook her head as David sat down on the bed next to her, placing Rosa carefully in between them.

"They're getting so big," Santana sighed, placing a kiss on the top of her daughter's head.

"They're only eight and five, babe," David reminded, subtly leaning forward. Santana smiled, knowing was he wanted and placed a kiss to his lips. He hummed a happy noise.

Santana sighed again once they settled back into their seats, "So, you're going into work today?"

After the success of his first front page article, David was promoted to the Time's leading writers. And because of this, he could easily support his family. However, Santana was having none of it, complaining that, while she was a mom, she was definitely not a stay-at-home mom. She still liked having her independence and thankfully David understood that. Once she was ready to work again, the ex-CO employee took up a job with her mom at her design firm and kept up with a few performances at ND's. She attempted to get a medical degree while she was at it, trying to make it up to her dad on some deep, personal level. But it was deemed impossible once Brighton came along, Rosalynn following him four short years later (that was okay though, because apparently Michael wanted to become a doctor just like Grandpa).

David nodded. "Gotta clear some things up with the editor. I should be able to come home early. What about you?"

"Britt's coming over with Tabitha today for a play date with little Rosie here," she said, tickling her daughter's plump stomach.

Rosalynne giggled helplessly and both Santana and David drowned in the delicious sound. Being the baby of the family now, Rosa had both her parents wrapped around her little fingers and were the apple of her parents' shining eyes. She may have only been a year old, but Rosalynn Porter was the splitting image of her mother, with full lips, beautiful tan skin and short, raven black hair. Michael, being the miniature David he was, was the splitting image of his father, looking like a much younger version of David according to Porter family legend. Brighton was a perfect combination of both Santana and David, with dark tan skin and a mixture of both his parents' best features.

Once Rosalynne's laughter ceased, Santana continued to smile, saying, "And then, I think, mom and daddy have Kurt and Blaine coming over for dinner later. I don't know; I'll have to check." She shook her head then, smiling despite herself.

"What is it?" David asked.

"Nothing, it's just… God. We lead such domestic lives. I mean, really! Me, Santana Lopez-Porter, a working wife with three kids," she explained with a shrug. She shook her head again. "It still sounds surreal."

Her husband looked at her curiously, tentatively asking, "Are you happy though? I know this may not be the life you always wanted to lead, but . . . are you happy anyways?"

Santana grinned, bright and wide. "Babe, I wouldn't have it any other way."

And that was the truth.


	76. Happy Endings

**Hey guys! So, it's finally finished. I hope all of you enjoy it. Thank you so much for reading this and or loving it. For anyone reading my Sebana fic, I thank you for reading that as well. Here is to a happy ending.**

* * *

><p>Kurt Hummel-Anderson smiled as he looked around the room, with a mixture of pleasure and sheer happiness running through him. It seemed like yesterday he and Blaine were exchanged vows for the first time, rather than getting ready for their ten year anniversary party. It was "Year 10" a.k.a. the "TinAluminum Year" or in more modern terms, also referenced as the "Year of the Diamond". Now, Kurt may be a master party/wedding planner, but revolving an entire event around aluminum, tin, and diamond was nearly over his head.

But Kurt had always loved a challenge.

It was to be held in the party room at the Plaza Hotel, which was decked out in decorations of dark blue, pure white and deep red, to go back ten years earlier, in an attempt to mirror their wedding reception set up. Switching the silver plates and silverware with aluminum utensils, Blaine thought it would be nifty to also have heart-shaped rose bequest with small diamonds in the middle at each table for the centerpieces.

Kurt found it to be quite tacky and a bit out of season (it was the beginning to December, after all), but Kurt could never argue with his husband. All together it cost a pretty penny (Kurt had never been so thankful of the fact he and Blaine both have high paying jobs as he was when he got the bill for everything), though they agreed it was for a very worthy cause.

The guest list was nearly two hundred, with their family, close friends, co workers, and several important clients. Both their parents were present, along with his siblings and their children. It took some time, but Blaine's family finally started coming around to the idea of their son being with another man. They were there for their wedding, their children's birthday parties, and even came to visit for some Christmas'. They weren't as devoted as Burt and Carole, but hey, no one's perfect.

The group was present as well, though they all seemed to be somewhat preoccupied with their own families. There was Rachel, who was sitting with Brittany and David, as they all tried to feed their jittery little toddlers, Vienna and Barbra, the five year olds acting as adult stand-ins, who were trying their best to keep the babies focused on eating, instead of the commotion all around them. There was also Alexander and Brighton, who were off doing their own thing, most likely annoying the band that Blaine had gotten for the event (a hot item ticket band that has been playing on the radio for quite some time; Kurt was very impressed by this move), asking them a million and one questions on music. Finally, Michael and Andrew, who were running around with Robbie, who was the only known sixteen year old and who didn't mind hanging around with a bunch of little kids, such as with Will and Emma's children, Melissa and Todd.

Artie, Finn, and Will were talking to the other guest, getting the feel of the room, while Santana stood outside on her cell phone. She and David had been arguing nearly the entire night over her coming and going to take a phone call. He didn't understand why she had to talk about fashion when it was her best friend's party. Santana's excuse was simple: GT was going head-to-head with Vera Wang and Spring Fling, and since Santana is the Vice President of the company, she had to make sure everything was running smoothly.

Kurt understood the whole situation completely, though he was honestly too distracted by making sure his own arrangements go right to caring about anybody else's. It was bad enough he had gotten milk split on his tux only hours before the party. Luckily, Blaine had stepped in and jumped to help him when first walking into the building. Kurt wanted to cancel the entire thing until his own husband had to slap him, keeping him from panicking and making a molehill into a mountain.

Hearing the sharp clinging of crystal over the microphone, Kurt turned towards the stage where Blaine stood, who tapped his stood against his glass goblet filled with champion, hopping to get everyone's attention.

"Hello? Is this on? Hey! Hey, everyone. Groom number two here. I just wanted to make a small speech before we start getting serious and getting cake and stuff. First off, I want to thank you all for coming out here tonight, it means so . . . so much to Kurt and I. You guys are the greatest and we love you. Secondly, I want to point out my children: Alexander and Vienna. Guys, you are my prized possessions, and I love you more than water, and food, and everything else I need. And thirdly, and finally, I want to ask my husband, Mr. Kurt Hummel-Anderson to please step forward."

Kurt's mouth opened as he looked around the room helpless. Blaine didn't say anything about speeches or renewing vows, or anything close to that, leading Kurt to be somewhat startled. Shaking his head slightly, Kurt stepped forward, reviving several cheers and rounds of clapping for doing so. Standing in the middle of the floor, the spotlight broke, pointing to both he and Blaine, who was still on stage.

"Kurt," Blaine sighed. "You are without a doubt, the best thing that ever happened to me. No way could I ever do the things I'm doing or be the man I am today without you. We've been through a lot, but that's only made us stronger. I thank God every day for letting me have you and allowing me to wake up every morning with you by my side. So here I am saying here's to ten years, knowing I'll gladly be by your side for seventy more. Cheers!"

Lifting their glasses, everyone cheered and applauded the speech. Kurt waiting for Blaine to jump off stage and meet him in the middle for a kiss, but he never did. Instead, he stayed up there, pulling one of the stools out to side.

"Alright, now for those of you who remember, Kurt sang a certain song to me at our wedding reception. He hasn't sung that song in ten years, and I decided tonight, I would sing it to him. To Kurt, this is for you."

Kurt thought back to all those years ago after their wedding, remembering the exact song he had sung to Blaine and its context. Before he could even say a word, the lights went down, the music began, and Blaine started singing.

"_Yeah, I'll, tell you something. I think you'll understand. When I, say that something, I wanna hold your hand. I wanna hoooooooold, you're haaaaaaaaaaand, I wanna hold, your haaaaand."_

A large smile broke across Kurt's face as Blaine sang their song. It was something they shared; a love so true and deep. When Kurt first sang it to him, it didn't hold the same meaning as it had when the Beatles did or even TV Carpio from the _Across The _Universe film. It not only meant love and happiness, but protection. To know that no matter how horrible things were, all he needed was to hold Blaine's hand, and everything would suddenly be okay.

Jumping off stage, Blaine walked over, microphone in hand, and stood before his husband. Reaching forward, Blaine held out his hand, as if he were asking Kurt to dance. Kurt took Blaine's offering, his eyes glistening with tears of joy and Blaine linked their fingers together, pulling him close as he finished his song.

"I love you." Blaine told him.

Without a word, Kurt answered him. Their kiss was simple, but strong, and the way they looked at each other when they pulled apart...it was like they were the only two people in the world, or at least, to each other.

"Omigod, that was like, so cute." A voice said from behind them. Santana stood with her arms crossed, her cell phone clutched in her hand, and a smirk playing across her lips. "Ten years and you haven't gotten any less boy-bandish. I'm impressed, Blainie."

Blaine smiled at her comment. "I try my best, Santana."

"Well, lemme tell you. You succeed. Hey!" Santana jumped as her husband came up from behind and pulled the phone out from her hand. "Give it!"

"Later." David said sternly. "I've been with Rosie this entire time, while you've been running around the hotel trying to get service. No more phone."

"But-"

"No buts!" David cut her off. Their marriage wasn't any different from when they were dating, at least it didn't seem that way. They still fought and had sex as much as possible, despite them having three kids and working full time jobs. Kurt mentioned once that no matter how old they got, they would still be the twenty-something people they were when they first met. "I wanna dance with my wife." He said.

Santana sighed, thought a small smile broke across her lips. Taking his hand, Santana led him out onto the dance floor, pulling him close as they swayed with the music. Artie and Brittany soon followed. Wrapping her arm around his neck, Artie slowly dipped his wife, receiving a small giggle from her. Finn and Rachel, who were taking a break from dancing and watching their children, sat close as they watched the happy couples, Rachael's fingers intertwining with her husband's, as she rested her head against her husband's shoulder.

Kurt sighed, watching the image which was laid out before him. It seemed like yesterday they were all still working class people, living for the moment without a care in the world. Ten years went back in a flash, and Kurt didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"What's wrong?" Blaine asked, stepping closer.

"Nothing," Kurt told him, "it's just . . . this is our life. Our friends and family. We finally made it to where we wanted to be. Powerful . . . loved. . . ."

Kurt's voice trailed off, having not another thought of what to add.

"You forgot happy." Blaine insisted.

Kurt smiled them, looking into the soft brown eyes staring back at him. "I've always been happy." He said, realizing now it was true. Through all the good and the bad, Kurt Hummel had found a way to light up the dark. And part of that light was Blaine.

"Good, because I intend to keep you that way for another fifty years."

Pulling him close, Kurt embraced his husband, his lover, and his friend. Ten years went by in a flash, so he could only imagine what seventy years would feel like. Kurt decided to let that go and move onto something more important – dancing with Blaine.

Ten years, twenty years, thirty; forty or fifty years, time meant nothing when one was truly happy and that's what they were – powerful, loved, and happy. And they'd stay like that forever and ever.


End file.
